All Secrets Sleep in Winter Clothes
by enlightenedkitty
Summary: [Complete!] When Snape, ever the bastard, is exposed as a spy, top auror Hermione is sent to Hogwarts to protect him. But meanwhile, Harry's behaving erratically, Draco's slimy as ever and Ronald Weasley desperately needs a woman. HG
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter One

Hermione Granger sat quietly at the table in her flat, staring at the piece of paper in front of her, not quite comprehending what she was reading, her eyes focusing and refocusing on the same few lines of text.

"Well? What is it? What does it say?" Ron Weasley demanded, and receiving no answer, he reached across the table and snatched the paper from her fingers. She didn't complain but reached for her scotch and took a swig as he began to read aloud.

"'You have been assigned to Hogwarts to serve as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for the upcoming school year.' _What!_"

Hermione glanced at him sharply, the words finally sinking in. She was going back to Hogwarts. "Keep reading."

"'Your current partner will be reassigned.' _Harry! Reassigned!_ Has he heard yet?" 

She shrugged, not looking at him. "I don't know, he's still in Germany, haven't heard from him. No contact, remember? Fudge will no doubt break the news himself."

"The hell is he thinking, breaking up the best team of aurors we've ever had! You two've taken down more Death Eaters --"

"Yes, I know that. You missed the last part of the letter. I'm to report to Dumbledore tomorrow morning." She finished her drink and poured another from the bottle on the table. 

"Tomorrow morning!" Ron wailed. "But school school starts in a week! Shouldn't Dumbledore already have a teacher? This can't be happening!"

"If Harry were here, this wouldn't be happening."

"That's probably why Fudge sent Harry without you, so he could split the two of you up while he wasn't around to stop it! I always knew Fudge had it in for you!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Look, I'm sure there is some perfectly rational explanation behind all this. In fact, Dumbledore probably knows all about it and he'll explain everything tomorrow."

He frowned and said slowly, "Yeah, I guess you're right. But it's still a bad fucking idea if you ask me." He paused and sipped at his own drink. "But at least you'll be somewhere safe."

"Want to trade then? I'd rather face down a thousand Death Eaters. Remember what we were like at Hogwarts?"

Ron managed a grin at that. "So you have the advantage already! Harry gave me the Marauders Map a few years ago, wanted me to hold onto it. Could come in handy now."

"For catching students out of bed, if nothing else," Hermione laughed, feeling slightly better. "I guess there are worse assignments for an auror."

"Sure, like last spring when I was trying to catch Wilford Jones, remember?"

"You mean when he shrank you after you already caught him?" she asked with a wry smile.

"How could I've known he put shrinking potion in his vodka?" Ron protested.

"Right. Good thing I insisted on going along."

"Yes, let's drink to that," Ron said, pouring both of them another drink.

They drank in silence for a moment, until Ron started on quidditch and Herione listened patiently. When she could no longer tolerate it, she pleaded tired and Ron made to leave.

"I think you'll do fine at Hogwarts, Hermione," he said sincerely as he reached out to hug her. "Plus it'll piss off Snape that he lost the job to one of his ex-students."

"Great, just what I need to start off the school year!" She hugged him fiercely. "I'll miss you, Ron Weasley. Take care of Harry for me, will you? You know how he likes to get into trouble when I'm not around."

"As if I'm much better!" Ron protested, pulling away from the embrace. "I'll owl you the Marauders Map as soon as I can find it." He paused, looking at her intently, as if memorizing her face. "Hermione, take care of yourself. I know you'll be at Hogwarts and near Dumbledore, but just be careful all the same."

She huffed indignantly. "You know, I'm not the helpless female you and Harry like to pretend I am. I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, I know, but that's what worries me!"

~ ~ ~

Monday morning came much too soon, while Hermione burrowed deep under the covers of her bed, attempting to escape the sunlight streaming through her windows and the imminent hangover. She finally poked her head out and checked the wind-up clock sitting beside her bed, her head throbbing from the effort required to focus on the tiny numbers. Yesterday's letter didn't give a specific time to meet Dumbledore, but she didn't want to disappoint her old headmaster by arriving late.

_Thank the gods for the genius who concocted the hangover potion_, she thought as she trudged to her bathroom, digging through the cabinet until she found the bottle. She took a hefty swig and closed her eyes, feeling the pain and nausea begin to dissipate. She showered and dressed quickly, pulling her still thick and bushy hair back into a loose ponytail, and set about packing.

The ministry had provided the flat furnished, so all she had to worry about packing were her personal effects. Being an auror had taken so much of her time that she was rarely at home and so she hadn't bothered with acquiring many things. Aside from books. She looked at the teeming bookcase, deciding to handle them first. 

"_Adduco libri_," she called, pointing her wand at the books, and the books shrank to miniature sizes before she directed them to a small leather satchel waiting on the floor. She grabbed the bag and went to her bedroom, where she opened her wardrobe and piled all her clothes on the bed. She murmured another shrinking spell, and her clothes joined the books. She then went to the bathroom and repeated the process. 

Finished packing, she set the bag by the front door and double-checked the flat for any other items she might have missed. The ministry would send elves over before giving the place to another employee, so even if she did leave anything, it would be returned shortly. She paused in the kitchen for a moment, considered making something to eat, and quickly decided to wait until Hogwarts, where she could get a wonderful hot breakfast without having to make it herself.

When she was satisfied that she hadn't left anything, she picked up the bag and left the apartment, locking and warding it behind her. She moved quickly down the stairs and out the front door, slipping down a deserted side street. Making sure no one else was nearby, Hermione concentrated and she was gone.

~ ~ ~

Hermione stood in awe, staring at the castle from across the lake. It had been many years since her last visit to Hogwarts, and suddenly a flood of memories came rushing back to her. She took a moment to sort herself out before continuing.

She pushed through the heavy doors into the castle and passed no one as she made her way to Dumbledore's office, pleasing herself by only making one wrong turn on the journey. She slowed as she approached the stone gargoyle, suddenly remembering that she didn't know the password. Her brow furrowed in thought as she paced by the gargoyle.

"Lemon drops?" she called, unsurprised when nothing happened. "Gummy worms? Jelly beans? Peppermint snaps? Orange --" 

The stone wall sprung open, and for a short moment, Hermione thought she had stumbled upon the password, until something -- some_one_ slammed into her, knocking her backwards. She stumbled for a few steps, but maintained her balance and turned to see the Potions Master himself, Severus Snape, sprawled ungracefully on the floor.

___ A/N: 

This is my second attempt at this story. The first one kept giving me too many problems so I scrapped a lot and reworked the rest, and it seems to be flowing much smoother this time. I hope to be uploading at least a chapter a week, possibly more. 

Please, read/review ... even if you don't like it, constructive criticism is always welcome. If you do like it, I love to hear encouragement! Thanks for reading so far! 


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Two

Hermione couldn't help but find the situation completely amusing, in a bizarre and gruesome manner. Her first day back at Hogwarts and the first person she had to run into -- literally -- was Snape. She knew there was little hope that he had changed since her days as his student, but she was no longer the meek student in awe of his superior intellect. She found she was actually looking forward to his verbal sparring.

"Who in bloody hell would be so stupid as to stand about in doorways?" Snape fumed as he struggled to his feet, brushing back his shiny black hair, eyes quickly taking in her form, his mind refusing to make the connection between the body and the person.

"It would seem you're losing your grace as you age, Professor," she remarked casually, and his glare turned icy as he finally recognized her.

"Miss Granger," he spat. "It would appear those rumors of your return are indeed true."

"Yes, I'd heard there was need for a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Her voice was silky, and she smiled wickedly as she added, "Don't worry, Professor, it's only for one year, so you'll have another chance next year."

His eyes flared as he opened his mouth for an undoubtedly scathing reply, when a kindly voice called for Snape from the stairs, followed by Albus Dumbledore's tall frame appearing in the doorway, his hand stroking his long white beard. 

"Severus, are you alright?" His twinkling eyes landed on Hermione and he smiled. "Miss Granger! How wonderful to see you! And I see you've bumped into Professor Snape already."

Hermione thought she heard laughter in Dumbledore's voice, and it certainly caught Snape's attention, who shifted his glare to the headmaster. 

"If you will excuse me, I do not have time to dally in the hallways. Unlike everyone else present, I have work to attend to," Snape hissed and stormed down the hallway, his robes following closely.

Hermione laughed softly as she watched Snape's retreating figure and said, "That answers my question on whether he's changed over the years."

"Change can be very slow without a catalyst," Dumbledore stated cryptically. She frowned, not quite following, at which Dumbledore smiled, motioning to his office. "Well then, shall we have some tea?"

She followed him upstairs and settled in one of the chairs across from the headmaster. He passed her a cup of tea, which she accepted with thanks. She also took a few of the lemon drops that he also offered, in order to assuage her empty stomach.

"So how are Harry and Ron?" Dumbledore asked, sipping his tea.

"Harry's off on somewhere in Germany for a few more weeks, so we haven't talked recently. He doesn't even know about the reassignment yet as far as I know. Ron, of course, is very upset about my coming here, but he'll get used to it."

Dumbledore nodded. "How do you feel, Hermione? About the reassignment?"

She frowned and looked down at her cup. "I'm not sure, to be honest, Headmaster."

"Please, call me Albus."

"I'll try, but be patient. It will take some getting used to," she said, laughing nervously. "It seems to me at this point in the war, I should be out there with Harry, capturing Death Eaters and scouting for intelligence. I'm sure there's some legitimate reason for my presence here, but I wasn't informed of it."

"There is a very good reason you are here, but I cannot reveal the full details to you. Everything I am about to tell you must remain in this room. If any is repeated, it could prove hazardous to numerous people." He paused and she nodded gravely, giving the older wizard her full attention. "We have another spy among Voldemort's followers."

"What?" she asked, clearly surprised. "Someone other than Snape?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, someone more trusted than Professor Snape is currently. Which leads to your reason for being at Hogwarts this year. We have reason to believe that Voldemort is aware of Severus's duplicity and has plans for him. You are here, in essence, to protect him."

"Why not just stop him from returning to Voldemort? Is Snape even aware of this?"

"Professor Snape is not aware of the situation, and it must remain as such. If he does not continue on as if nothing has happened, Voldemort will become suspicious and we could lose both Professor Snape and our other contact. However, we will be alerted of any new plans for Severus."

Hermione sat silent, her mind racing over the implications. "Is this new spy trustworthy? How do we know he's not working for Voldemort?"

Dumbledore gave a small smile, his eyes twinkling. "Yes, very trustworthy." He reached forward and took a few lemon drops before changing the subject. "How do you feel about teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Actually I was telling Ron that I'd rather face Death Eaters than face these students, especially if they're anything like the three of us were!"

He laughed heartily in agreement. "Poor Minerva had to defend the three of you against Severus many a time during your seven years here, even more than against the Weasley twins, I'd imagine."

"There aren't any students like that currently, are there?"

"There are always students like that, but none quite on the same level. I can easily assure you that the Marauders were the last group that were as ... challenging as yours."

Hermione grinned and said, "Well, I'm sure Sirius would be pleased to know that his godson followed in his footsteps!"

They talked of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, and of the students and teachers from Hermione's days at Hogwarts, Hermione laughing, smiling, and feeling quite at home suddenly. 

~ ~ ~

After their tea, Dumbledore showed Hermione to her new quarters, which were nicer and roomier than she'd had in London. She had her own sitting room with a monstrous fireplace and walls which were covered in bookshelves, a bedroom with the world's most comfortable bed and an incredible view, and then there was the bathroom, which was like heaven on earth. She couldn't wait to take a long, hot bath later.

She unpacked quickly, muttering a spell and her books began sorting themselves first by topic and then alphabetically by author, but they filled barely half of her bookshelves. She promised to remedy that as soon as she could get down to Hogsmeade. That would be a definite advantage of this job, she decided, having time to read again. She had fallen behind on her reading lately.

Her clothes and other things could wait, as her stomach started growling incessantly, and so she set off towards the kitchens, having very little trouble finding her way. 

It was so strange being back at Hogwarts without Harry and Ron. Everytime she rounded a corner, she half expected to catch them up to something, getting into trouble, waiting for her to rescue them. She wondered how Harry was, what exactly he was doing in Germany anyway. She had left instructions with Ron to owl her as soon as Harry returned.

As soon as she entered the kitchen, she was surrounded by house-elves, each wanting nothing more than to secure her happiness.

"Um, hi, I'm Hermione Granger and I'm a new teacher here," she began.

One elf squeaked excitedly, "Oh, Miss! We knows who you is! Dobby is so happy that you is coming back to Hogwarts to teach! He is telling us all about you and Mister Harry!"

"Dobby! He's still here?"

"Yes, Miss, but he is taking his day off today," the same elf informed her, shaking his head, the rest of the elves joining him in showing that they disapproved of Dobby's work ethics. "Dobby is bad elf. Dobby should not be taking day off, especially when students is coming back soon!"

Hermione laughed, remember her futile attempt so many years ago to improve the labor conditions of the elves at Hogwarts. "Well, tell him I said hello, will you?"

"Yes, Miss. Is you needing something?"

"Actually, I am starving and was hoping to get a snack before lunch."

Five elves carrying trays full of delicious, steaming hot food promptly appeared in front of her as another handed her a plate and silverware. 

"Well, I was just hoping for a ham sandwich, if that's not too much trouble," she said moments before she was handed a plate with the sandwich. "Thank you very much."

"You is welcome, Miss," the elf said happily as Hermione wolfed down the sandwich. He took the empty plate from her and the elves waved goodbye as she left.

Feeling much better, she decided to pay a visit to her old head of house, Professor McGonagall. She muttered a quick location charm which showed McGonagall in her office. As Hermione made her way down the corridor, Peeves flew past her, cackling madly, and ducked into a classroom. Moments later, Filch rounded the corner, breathing heavily.

"Where did that bastard go?" he managed to wheeze out. "I saw him come down this hallway."

Hermione pointed Filch in the direction the poltergeist had gone, and he left, cursing under his breath, and she continued on.

The door to McGonagall's office was open but the room was empty. Thinking perhaps she had just missed McGonagall, she repeated the location spell, and again it showed the office. Frowning, she stepped back into the office and scanned it quickly, laughed when she finally spotted the tabby lounging in an armchair by the empty fireplace, its large green eyes watching her expectantly.

"Hello, Professor," she said as she walked to the other chair and sat down.

The tabby yawned and stretched luxuriously, before transfiguring into the familiar shape of Minerva McGonagall, square glasses and tight bun and all. Hermione felt as if she'd fallen into a time flux and had been transported back in time since McGonagall didn't look any different. The older witch smiled warmly, reaching over to grasp Hermione's hand.

"Child, I haven't seen you since your graduation! You really have turned into a beautiful woman!"

Hermione blushed, unsure how to respond when anyone told her she had changed since she still felt like an awkward teenager most of the time. "Yes, it has been a long time, Professor McGonagall. I've been meaning to come back, but I've been so busy and lost track of time, I guess," she answered sheepishly.

McGonagall laughed and squeezed her hand. "I've heard that excuse before, Hermione. And please call me Minerva, since we are colleagues now."

"Professor Dumbledore -- Albus -- told me the same thing, you know. It's so bizarre having to think of my teachers as having real names!"

"Would you like some tea, dear?" McGonagall asked as reached for the teapot sitting nearby.

"No, I'm fine, thanks. Just raided the kitchens actually."

The two witches talked for a long while about the ministry, Harry and Ron, the war against Voldemort, Hogwarts teachers, and nearly every other subject until Hermione announced that she needed to go over her lesson plans.

"If you ever need a friendly ear or shoulder, you're always welcome here, Hermione," McGonagall said with a maternal air. "Teaching can be very stressful in the beginning."

"Thank you, Professor -- Minerva," Hermione said, her cheeks burning slightly. It was so strange to say McGonagall's name as if they were equals. _But then we are equals now, aren't we?_ She started to leave the office when McGonagall called her back.

"Hermione? Tell me, did you continue to study transfiguration after Hogwarts?" 

Knowing that she had always been one of McGonagall's favorite students, Hermione smiled. She quickly transformed into a small, grey cat with brilliant green eyes. McGonagall's eyes lit up and she clapped. 

"Excellent choice!" she said with a broad smile as Hermione returned to her regular form. 

"Of course!" Hermione laughed, and continued, "You know transfiguration was always one of my stronger subjects."

___  
A/N:

I'm not sure about the characterizations so far, so if you have any comments/concerns, please post! Again, please R/R! 


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Three

Hermione lay in bed until three in the morning, mind churning, before she finally gave up hope of sleeping. She couldn't help but worry about the impending start of term and her lesson plans, not to mention Ron and Harry. But mostly she worried about Harry.

Over the last year, Harry had begun taking assignments without her, which had increased in frequency and duration over summer. He could not speak about these assignments with her, "highly top secret ministry business" he'd told her the one time she'd asked, and so all she could do was worry. In fact, she didn't even know that he was even in Germany after all.

She climbed out of bed, exchanging her cotton nightgown for a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from a Muggle rock band, and grabbed her wand before slipping out the door of her quarters. Lucinda, the young witch from the portrait guarding her door, was busy entertaining some handsome wizard, and so didn't notice Hermione's departure. She walked aimlessly, trying to calm her rampant mind, when she found herself standing in front of the library. She laughed, thinking of all the times she had snuck down for some after hours reading for one class or another. She made for the restricted section, hoping perhaps to find something useful for her classes. She had looked at the lesson plans the previous DADA teacher had left, and while they were adequate, she felt they could be much better. 

Suddenly, Hermione felt a presence behind her. Her auror training immediately took over, and she spun around, raising her arms in a defensive posture, when a strong pair of hands grasped her wrists and pulled her close, bringing her face-to-face with Snape. She was close enough to feel his warm breath on her face, could see the yellow of his teeth as he spoke.

"Your reflexes could use a little work, Miss Granger," he purred, not loosing his hold on her wrists. She pulled against him to no avail.

"Something I can do for you, Professor?" she asked, attempting to keep her voice neutral, trying not to become angry. _He's only trying to scare you, just trying to intimidate you_, she told herself. _He won't actually hurt you._

"Your first night back at Hogwarts and already sneaking around after dark, I see."

"I was under the impression that I was a teacher here, not a student, which means I have just as much right to be 'sneaking around after dark' as you do, Professor."

His black eyes drilled into her, but she refused to look away. She made another futile attempt to free herself, and when he did not yield, her anger began to rise. "Let me go," she warned, her voice low and dangerous.

The corners of his mouth rose almost imperceptibly as he snidely asked, "Or what?"

Hermione envisioned using her extensive martial arts training to turn the tables and trap him, perhaps even using his own weight and flipping him, but that could result in serious injury -- to him, of course -- and she didn't feel like having to deal with Madam Pomfrey, if she was even here yet. Not to mention Dumbledore most likely wouldn't be too pleased. And so instead, she chose to insult him.

"You know, my parents are both dentists, so they could possibly do something about your teeth, though I don't hold much hope for your breath."

Her remark had the desired effect, and Snape pushed her away, causing her to hit a nearby bookcase which teetered precariously for a moment. 

"You would do well to stay out of my way, Miss Granger," he hissed and turned on his heel, storming out of the library.

She wanted to protest to his retreating back that he was the one who kept running into her, but she held her tongue. 

_Now that's a great start to things, isn't it?_ she thought as the door to the library slammed shut. _Exactly how am I supposed to protect someone I piss off as much as he does me?_

~ ~ ~

Tuesday morning, she forced herself out of bed early in order to have breakfast in the Great Hall with the other teachers. She had skipped both lunch and dinner Monday, she had been so preoccupied with her lesson plans, and so had visited the kitchens later. Normally, she would have settled for a cup of coffee and skipped breakfast altogether, but since she was the new DADA teacher, she felt she should put in an appearance to meet any new teachers and say hello to the old ones.

She dressed and went downstairs, praying that Snape wouldn't be present. He hadn't been a regular figure at breakfast from her days at Hogwarts and she hoped that hadn't changed as she entered the Great Hall.

"Good morning, Hermione!" called Dumbledore and rose from a table on the floor. 

As she approached, Hermione took note of the teachers present, all of whom paused in their eating and conversations to look at her, most of them smiling. McGonagall, Sprout and a handsome black-haired man -- who did not smile, in fact hardly looked at her -- sat on one side, Flitwick, Hooch, Sinistra, and a young, brunette woman on the other; Snape, thankfully, had stayed true to form and avoided breakfast. 

Dumbledore motioned to the two teachers she didn't recognize, introducing them, "This is Vasily Borodin, who teaches Arithmancy, and Anne Wilde, who teaches Muggle Studies. Vasily, Anne, I would like you to meet Hermione Granger, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I believe you know everyone else, Hermione."

Hermione nodded and said hello to everyone, taking a seat next to Vasily, who quickly finished with his plate of eggs and sausage and left the table without a word to Hermione or anyone else, merely a chaste nod to Dumbledore.

Anne, sitting across the table, smiled and said, "Don't mind Vasily. He's not known for his conversation skills."

"Good, I was afraid it was me."

The breakfast aromas were delightful, so Hermione helped herself to a plate full of eggs, bacon and fruit and a large cup of coffee. Anne had already finished eating breakfast, but was still drinking her coffee.

"You went to Hogwarts, didn't you?" Anne asked. Hermione nodded, her mouth full of eggs. "I thought so. I was three years ahead of you your first year, but that was my last year at Hogwarts."

"What house were you?"

"Ravenclaw." 

"The sorting hat nearly put me in Ravenclaw. So why did you leave, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Not at all. My dad got a job in America and my mom finished my training at home."

"Living in America must have been fascinating. Why did you move back?"

Anne laughed lightly, her brown eyes sparkling. "I moved back as soon as I could! I came back to study in London."

"London University of Wizarding and Magic? Good school. What did you study?"

"Charms and transfiguration mostly. Then I took a wonderful class, 'Muggles: Past, Present and Future' which really opened my eyes to the non-wizarding world. After I graduated, I spent three years traveling the world, spending most of my time with Muggles."

"Wow!"

"It really was exciting. But not as exciting as being an auror, I'd expect."

Hermione shrugged. "If Harry and Ron hadn't pestered me to become an auror with them, I probably would have ended up at London too. Peer pressure can be a bitch when you're eighteen and don't know what you want to do with the rest of your life."

"Do you wish you had gone to university instead?"

"Sometimes, maybe on a bad day when I'm having to fight off Death Eaters from both sides. But usually I'm happy with my decision. However, it is nice to take a break." She paused, taking a bite of food, chewing thoughtfully. "Though I must say, I now understand Mad Eye Moody's paranoia."

"I heard about that! It seems I missed a lot of excitement."

Laughing, Hermione agreed. "Oh, the stories I could tell."

"You should come by sometime, then, and have tea. My office is on the second floor, near the Princess of Dyfed statue," Anne invited, finishing her coffee and standing, smiling broadly at Hermione.

"Alright, I will," Hermione said, returning the smile, happy to have already found a potential friend. She would definitely have to owl Ron, who had been sure all the teachers at Hogwarts were at least sixty years old, not counting Snape who didn't count anyways.

At that moment, a small, overly energetic owl flew in an open window and crashed into the table beside her. She immediately recognized the grey owl and set down a large piece of crust for her.

"Hi, Pig," she said, the owl hooting happily in return as Hermione untied the rolled parchment from the Pig's leg. "What've you got for me?"

She unrolled the parchment, momentarily confused since the paper was blank, until she belatedly remembered that Ron had promised to send her the Marauders Map as soon as he found it. A small note fell to the table and she quickly read it.

'Hope everything is well. Good luck and give 'em hell! Ron'

She grinned, stuffing the Map into her pocket and pulling out a small piece of paper, upon which she scribbled a quick thank you note for Pig to deliver. She let Pig finish the crust before tying the letter on, and, with an excited hoot, Pig took off.

Hermione looked up, noticing that everyone except for McGonagall and Dumbledore had left. She had been so engrossed in her conversation with Anne that she hadn't been paying attention.

Dumbledore smiled as he asked, "A letter from Mr. Weasley? I seem to remember that owl from his days here."

"Yes, from Ron. That was Pigwidgeon."

"Good news, I hope." 

"Just a quick note, wishing me good luck." She neglected to mention the Map, but somehow she felt Dumbledore knew already, judging by the twinkle in the old blue eyes.

___  
A/N:

Thanks so much to all the reviewers so far! This chapter seemed to gather momentum towards the end, and I couldn't stop writing! Well, almost. I'm just now finishing and it's 6am -- been up since 11am Tues -- so if there's any misspellings, or grammatical errors, I will fix ASAP, just wanted to get this chapter posted quickly.

BTW, I had originally planned for Hermione to kick Snape's ass ... but eventually decided that would cause too many personal problems, although it would've been a lot of fun! Who knows, it might happen later! :) 


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Four

The next few days passed without incident, and Hermione only saw Snape a handful of times, mainly at meals. Friday arrived and she found she was having difficulty concentrating. She stared out of the windows of her third floor office, wishing she could blow off the rest of the afternoon and go swimming. 

_Well, why can't I?_

She had already finished all her plans for the first two weeks of classes, had Dumbledore look them over just to be sure, and he had pronounced them "fascinating" and praised her assiduousness in improving the plans she had been given. The more she thought about it, she doubted Dumbledore would mind her taking the afternoon off, and so she made up her mind. 

Halfway down the corridor to her rooms, she thought perhaps she should invite Anne, and so changed directions, heading down the nearest staircase. She watched for Anne's statue, and eventually spotted it at the end of one hallway. The door to Anne's office was open, but the room was empty so Hermione left, disappointed.

She returned to her quarters, changing into her two-piece red-with-polka-dots bathing suit, covering up with her robes. She stole quickly through the halls, and thankfully encountered no one on the way out. Though she was sure Dumbledore wouldn't care, she did feel somewhat guilty about sneaking off to the lake while everyone else was working. Bursting through the front doors, she held her hands to her eyes as a shield against the bright sunlight, practically skipping down the path to the lake.

As she neared the water, she realized she was not the only one to decide the day was a prime day for not working. She approached cautiously, until she made out Anne's figure swimming in the lake.

Anne spotted her and waved furiously. "Hermione! Come on in, it's wonderful!"

"I actually just went by your office to see if you wanted to swim!"

"I'm so sorry! I should've come by to ask _you_ to come swimming!" Anne confessed as Hermione slipped off her robe and laid it with the other pile of clothing. 

She stuck her toe into the water, pleased to discover that it was indeed wonderful, neither too warm nor too cold. She waded out a few meters before she dove under the water and swam a ways before surfacing and swimming back towards Anne.

They talked for a few minutes about classes and lesson plans and teachers. Hagrid, whom she had not seen since she'd been back, was apparantly in Spain, trying to catch a wild hippogriff. After a while, Hermione lay back in the water, floating, soaking up the sun.

Again her thoughts turned to Harry. She wondered if he had found out yet, about her transfer, imagining him storming into Fudge's office, demanding Hermione be reassigned to him. The thought made her smile, since when Harry got angry, things usually happened. She briefly considered the identity of the new spy, running through her mental list of the upper echelons of Death Eaters, finding none she thought willing or even capable of betraying the Dark Lord.

Since Voldemort's return, the Death Eaters had begun growing in numbers, slowly at first, then more rapidly in recent years. She, Harry and Ron had all worked hard to reduce those numbers, catching a great number who had been sentenced to Azkaban. The dementors had not yet defected, most likely due to the large influx of prisoners, though some in the Ministry -- including Dumbledore -- still warned against the possibility that they would leave the Ministry in order to join Voldemort. 

The Ministry itself was in perpetual turmoil, since there were two factions at work: those who supported Fudge, and those who followed Dumbledore. Though Fudge did not actively work against Dumbledore, he often acted slowly. It was not a rift Dumbledore had wanted or even encouraged, but after Fudge's lack of action following Voldemort's return, many witches and wizards had turned to Dumbledore for direction, who immediately reinstated the Order of the Phoenix. Part of the reason Harry wanted to become an auror right after graduation was to work from within the Ministry itself to produce results in the war.

Her thoughts shifted to her current assignment, Snape. Hermione was still not completely sure of Fudge's motives in sending her to Hogwarts, unless it was to weaken Harry's position as an auror, a purely political move. She also wondered about Snape's current hostility towards her, why he seemed more hostile to her now than when she was a student.

Water splashing in her face interrupted her reverie, and she looked up to see Anne's playful grin. "Hey, wanna go to Hogsmeade? I need to go by Gladrags, and maybe Three Broomsticks."

"I've been wanting to visit Flourish & Botts, actually!"

They both waded to the shore, where Hermione transfigured a handkerchief into a large multi-colored beach towel, using it to dry off. She pulled on her robes and joined Anne, who was waiting for her. They walked leisurely towards Hogsmeade, discussing school matters.

Anne laughed when Hermione asked her whether Dumbledore would care that they weren't in the castle working, explaining, "You'll find Albus will make sure you spend enough time not working, rather than the opposite."

Hermione grinned, not quite surprised. "I wish the Ministry employed that philosophy. I was always spending too much time at work."

"You do realize you're now spending all your time at work?" asked Anne rhetorically.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, realizing the truth in the statement, then shrugging. "So instead of spending all my free time alone in my flat, I get to spend it surrounded in a large castle."

"Aren't you going to get bored though? I mean, aren't you used to all that action, the chasing of Death Eaters, near-death experiences, and such?"

"As it was, I was usually the the one being dragged along on our little escapades, trying to be the voice of reason. 'Let's go back and get help.' Or 'I don't think it's a good idea to go sneaking about tonight.' So I'm perfectly fine taking a nice, relaxing assignment out of harm's direct path."

Anne nodded. "I can see that." She paused, looking at Hermione before continuing, "But I still think you'll miss the excitement, just a bit. Maybe deep down."

"Maybe. But if I do, you'll be the first to know."

"Should we make it a bet then?" Anne asked, her eyebrows raised, her lips curving into a lopsided grin. "Ten galleons says you're dying of boredom by Christmas."

"Of course I'll be bored by then! That's four months!"

"Okay, Halloween then, only two months away."

She looked suspiciously at the other witch, before smiling. "Make it five galleons and you're on. I'm on a smaller salary than before, so I have to count knuts."

"Alright then! Five galleons that you'll begging to be an auror again before Halloween. Now of course, I'm expecting you to be totally honest," Anne added with a sly grin.

"I'm insulted that you would even think I wouldn't tell you the truth," Hermione said, feigning indignation. "I am a Gryffindor, after all, and we never lie! That is, we try not to lie."

"Right."

They approached Hogsmeade and decided that since they both had different business they would split up and meet back at the Three Broomsticks later. Hermione headed to Flourish & Botts, where she searched for a book for her fourth years, _Banshees! and Werewolves! and Vampires! Oh My!_ It was a fairly recent book, but for some reason, the Hogwart's library did not possess a copy.

The old witch at the counter helped her locate the book, then Hermione browsed for a while before settling on three others: _Sniffing Out the Dark Wizard in Us All_, a book for her sixth and seventh years on detecting dark wizards and witches; _The Truth Behind the Numbers: Advanced Studies In Arithmancy and the Future_, for a bit of light reading; and _Moste Potente Potions_, her third copy, since she kept losing it everytime she moved. It was a book she couldn't live without as she tended to brew many of her own potions. 

She still had some time before meeting Anne, so she wandered over to Dervish & Bangs to look at the new model Sneak-o-Scopes. The latest designs were modeled after jewelry, so it could be worn unobtrusively and still be able to function. 

~ ~ ~

Severus Snape paced the length of floor directly in front of Albus Dumbledore's desk, the old man sitting back, hands steepled on his beard, watching the irritated man before him.

"Severus, I would appreciate it if you would not wear my rug so. I've had it for sixty years, and I am rather fond of it now."

Snape scowled, throwing himself into the chair by the fire. "Why does it have to be me? I still have lessons to plan and potions to make for Pomfrey's supplies."

"I will see that Poppy has enough to last the duration." His face became serious as he continued. "Severus, there are many reasons why it must be you. First of all, you speak Russian, which is a great asset, since Translation Charms are not entirely accurate. Next, you know the area. And lastly, there is a great chance that Vasily's disappearance is related to the rumors of Voldemort and the Death Eaters gathering in Eastern Europe."

At the mention of Voldemort, Snape's stomach turned and he had to fight the urge to retch. Every visit he had made to the Dark Lord over the last nine years had become steadily more trying. He was giving Voldemort limited or already known information, and in turn received nothing, save Cruciatus and insults. 

"What about Granger, why not send Hogwart's resident auror?" he snarled.

"I am."

Snape stared into the old blue eyes, noticed the lack of twinkle there. _Gods, he's sending her with me_, he realized abruptly.

"Point in fact, I need to speak with her at once. I believe you might find her down by the lake. Or perhaps in Hogsmeade. Please do apprise her of the current situation."

Snape stared in a combination of disbelief and hatred at Dumbledore, who, ignoring him, reached over his desk for the dish of lemon drops. 

"Do take a lemon drop before you go, Severus. Might improve your spirits."

The younger wizard snarled as he stood, turning on his heel and storming out of the office, his robes billowing behind. 

~ ~ ~

"'Ermione!"

Suddenly, she was buried face first into a mass of tangled beard, strong arms pulling her into an embrace. 

"Hagrid! I can't breathe!"

"Sorry 'bout that," Hagrid said as he let her go. "Just got a bit excited when I saw yeh! 'Lo there, Anne! C'mon, sit down wit' me and have a drink!"

They sat with Hagrid, drinking butterbeer, while Hagrid talked about wild Hippogriffs. He also told her about the two kneazles he had found in the Forbidden Forest and since adopted, and she was interested in seeing them, since Crookshanks had been part kneazle.

"Well, I'll be! Professor Snape!" Hagrid exclaimed while waving towards the front door. Hermione looked over her shoulder and groaned, noting the especially vile look on Snape's face. Anne gave her an inquisitive look, but said nothing.

Snape immediately started towards their table, barely nodding towards Anne and Hagrid, his eyes settling on Hermione. "Miss Granger. Enjoying your afternoon, I see."

"Yes, thank you," she said softly.

"As much as I hate to break up this little get-together, I must inform you that Professor Dumbledore requires your presence," Snape snarled, adding unnecessarily, "immediately."

"Yes, thank you Professor. I'll be with you shortly."

Snape turned on his heel and stalked outside.

"Whoa, I know he doesn't normally like people, but gods!"

"Tell me about it. I don't know what it is, either. He was never like that when I was a student."

Hagrid hurrumphed. "I thin' he's jus' misunderstood, tha's all. An' if Dumbledore is wanting to see yeh, yeh'd better get goin'."

Anne nodded her agreement and started to get up.

"No, stay. There's no sense in subjecting you to Snape too. Stay and have another butterbeer."

"You sure?" Anne asked, reaching for Hermione's arm. "I wouldn't mind....."

Hermione shook her head and stood. "I'm sure it's nothing. I'll see you at dinner."

She paid her bill and grabbed her books, moving to the front door. She caught sight of Snape leaning against the side of a Hogwart's coach, scowling relentlessly at her. She sighed, wishing she knew why she deserved this treatment from him. 

Snape climbed inside, leaving the door open for her, but not assisting her. She settled on the bench opposite him, laying her books on the seat beside her. Snape's eyes were drawn to them by force of habit, and he was quite surprised to see the copy of _Moste Potente Potions_. 

"Studying up on your potions?" he sneered as the coach jerked and started towards the school.

She looked at him warily. "No, I am replacing a lost copy."

"Given your lack of interest in the subject, I find it rather unsettling that you have previously owned _Moste Potente Potions_."

_Is that what this is about? My seventh year Potions project?_ She said nothing, watching his face.

She remembered that day when she had dropped off her finished project, how he'd mentioned she could probably get a full Potions scholarship to Berkeley in California. But she'd decided not to go to school, to fight instead. Those pangs for school had long since faded, though on a particularly bad day, she might wonder what might have been. _But that's another life._

She failed to respond, instead watcing out the windows. After a few moments of silence, her eyes moved to him and she asked, "Why does Albus want to see me?"

He was supposed to tell her, had been ordered to. But then he wouldn't be able to enjoy this, withholding information just as he would have taunted her back in her school days with some potion she would have been unable to make for some reason or another. He sat back in the seat and folded his hands, his stern eyes contemplated her. 

She sighed, looking out the window. Thankfully the ride was nearly over, and neither said another word until well after the coach left them on the front steps. She followed him to Dumbledore's office, her shorter legs having to work faster to keep up with Snape's long strides. She was far enough behind him that she didn't hear him mutter the password to the gargoyle, but nearly ran into him when he stopped in the entrance and spoke to her, never turning to face her.

"Vasily Borodin has disappeared. He received an urgent owl on Tuesday requesting his presence at home in Murmansk, but his family says he never arrived." He paused, then continued, his voice icy, "It seems you and I are to be spending a good deal of time together." He continued up the winding staircase.

___  
A/N:

Sorry guys! Should've warned you about Snape being a dick ... more to come on that backstory. Don't worry, things will work out soon -- or at least they won't be constantly at each other's throats all the time.

Thanks again for all the wonderful reviewers. As I've said before, if you don't like it, let me know why! If you do like it, let me know why too!

Alright, chapter 5 is coming soon ... actually next three chapters are all ready in my head, just need to get my fingers moving on the keyboard. Sometimes they don't work as fast as my brain does. :) 


	5. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Five

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, his words sinking in. _You and I are to be spending a good deal of time together._ The words had become almost tangible, she could almost reach her hand out and touch them hanging in the confined staircase to Dumbledore's office. _You and I are to be spending a good deal of time together._ That could only mean that Dumbledore was sending the two of them after Vasily Borodin, since there was no way they would be spending time together voluntarily.

She hastily recovered and followed Snape's robes up the stairs, sitting in a chair opposite the headmaster, holding her books on her lap. Her eyes scanned the room by habit, noting Fawkes's dismal appearance in the corner, deciding his transformation must be close. Snape resumed his place by the fire, scowling heavily.

"Severus, I must speak with Hermione alone. I trust you can gather necessities for your journey," Dumbledore added gently, knowing the younger professor would take his request as an insult, as he did indeed, storming out of the office without a backwards glance. Dumbledore turned his attention to Hermione. "Am I right in believing that Severus gave you the bare minimum in information?"

She nodded. "I know Vasily is missing, there was a note from his family in Murmansk, and Professor Snape and I will be spending some time together, apparently."

"Yes, indeed. What Severus neglected to mention is that Voldemort is gathering forces in Eastern Europe."

"But what's in Eastern Europe? And why would he want Vasily?" 

"Both excellent questions, Hermione, however I do not possess the answer to either."

"The ministry? Have you contacted Fudge?"

"The Minister does not believe this is of grave importance and so will not become involved at this point. I am paraphrasing his response by owl this afternoon. He told me to contact him after Vasily had been missing a week or more."

"Fudge, that fucking bastard. What about your source? Does this have anything to do with Snape?"

He shook his head, saying, "No, I do not believe so. Voldemort will no doubt wish to settle matters with our Potions Master personally, however our latest reports show that he is currently in the vicinity of Bulgaria."

"What about Vasily? Do we know exactly where he was going?"

"Severus knows the complete details regarding his last known location." Dumbledore pulled a rolled parchment out of his desk, handing it to her. "I found this map of great use during the courting of my late wife, but that is neither here nor there." Hermione looked at him sharply, raising her eyebrows when she saw Dumbledore's mouth turn up slightly. "Continuing on, just by using a simple _invenio_ spell, the map displays the charmed person, wherever he -- or she -- may be. Rest assured, it is complete and up-to-date map."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Hermione, I do not need to remind you to be careful. I trust you have observed Severus's reaction to your presence." He paused while she nodded. "Do not let this cloud his judgment."

"If there's not anything else, I'd like to gather my things," she said, rising from her chair.

"One moment, Hermione," Dumbledore interrupted, rising as well. "I have something else for you." He stood and moved to the bookshelves near Fawkes's stand, stroking the phoenix as he passed, removing a small vial from a shelf. He handed it to her, saying, "Fawkes donated these just yesterday."

Hermione tilted the vial, examining it. "Phoenix tears? Wonderful. Fawkes, thank you," she said, encouraged when the phoenix warbled at her. "Again, thank you Professor."

"Albus."

"Albus, right, I told you to give me awhile," she said, grinning sheepishly, then turning serious. "We will be back as soon as possible."

She left the office quickly, moving unconsciously, her mind sifting through the sudden rush of information. She didn't see Snape glaring at her from across the corridor, waiting for her, arms folded across his chest, and she very nearly ran into him before she spotted him.

"Professor, I was just on my way--"

"To somewhere most important, no doubt. Time is of the essence, Miss Granger, and I am ready to leave."

"Right," she murmured, setting off for her quarters at a brisk pace, uncomfortably aware of Snape's presence only a few steps behind her. She uttered her password and unwarded the door before entering, making a mental note to change the wards and password upon her return. 

He followed her in, standing silently in her sitting room, eyes watching her add her newly acquired books to the shelves carefully. She went to the other room, her bedroom Snape presumed, turning to her bookshelves and scanning the titles. There were a great number on transfiguration and charms, and a few on arithmancy, not to mention Muggle history books and novels, but what surprised him was her selection of potions texts. Though it was not nearly as thorough as his own, it was still impressive nonetheless. He pulled out a nondescript book, opening it and reading.

In her bedroom, Hermione pulled out two changes of warm clothing, as well as her thick Ministry-issued coat, piling them on the bed and then changed out of her bikini, which she had forgotten about wearing, and into a crisp black suit with sneakers charmed to look like heels. She added a miniature potions kit to the remaining clothes, as well as the map Dumbledore had given her. She dug out her wand from her robes which she had tossed on the bed, placing the wand in the inside pocket of her suit along with the small vial of phoenix tears. She then placed the pile of supplies in her leather satchel.

Hermione came back into the sitting room carrying her bag, stopping short when she saw the book in Snape's hands. He raised his eyes and met her stare, which had taken a defiant edge.

"Reading up on dark potions, are you?" he drawled, but she noticed the sneer lacked its usual edge.

"Since you know what it is, then you will no doubt be aware of its usefulness," she answered, moving towards him with her hand extended.

"Of course," he said, passing the book to her, noting the brief hint of surprise that crossed her face, wondering what had surprised her.

She replaced the book, turned to him. That momentary lack of hostility had confused her, but she pushed the thought away, for another time. "Let's go."

They moved quickly through the castle in silence, which continued until they passed the invisible barriers protecting Hogwarts. Snape stopped, and Hermione slowed before catching up with him, quietly muttering the _invenio_ spell on him, that way she would be able to follow him on the map. She then took the opportunity to query him about their destination.

"Where are we going exactly? Albus said you had all that information."

"I will explain after we apparate," he replied in a tone that discouraged further discussion. 

He closed the short distance between them, circling his arms about her shoulders and pulling her roughly to him, and suddenly the world was spinning and all she could think of was that she should've owled Ron before she left and Snape had really strong arms and smelled of something she couldn't place but it felt very familiar --

-- and suddenly she was falling, and she landed hard, on something very cold, and wet. Snow, she realized belatedly, as she struggled to stand. She turned, gasping slightly as she surveyed the mostly white landscape, interrupted only by snow-topped trees or an occasional patch of green. As she turned back towards Snape, she realized he wasn't there, that he had started towards a small town nearby. She quickly caught up with him.

"We are approximately sixty miles northeast of Murmansk. Borodin's family owns a large estate outside of town, and there is a small wizarding community here. I intend to check for possible Death Eater activity before going to the estate."

"Why don't we go directly to the family, and then check with everyone else?"

"Because Borodin's father, Dmitri, was one of Voldemort's largest supporters in all of Eastern Europe, much less Russia."

"Right, of course. And why is it that Fudge doesn't believe the Death Eaters could be involved?" she asked sarcasm flooding her voice.

Snape snorted. "If anything, politics will lose this war, and your Potter isn't doing anything to help by publicly feuding with that prat of a Minister."

"And what should he do? Stand by idly while Fudge twiddles his thumbs, just as he is doing now? By his dissension, Harry is showing the wizarding public that it is alright to have opposing views of government and that government is indeed fallible."

"As I said, Miss Granger. Politics."

"Then where do you stand on all this?"

Snape threw a glance at her, but she was unable to read his dark eyes. He did not answer her. They reached the center of town, where they turned down a small, empty side street that dead-ended after thirty yards. Snape did not slow, walking through the wall, and Hermione followed. 

She assumed this was the heart of the wizarding community here, such as Diagon Alley served as in London, though it was much smaller, and only a few people were out. The street was limited to a single block of shops. Snape led them to a small pub, where he found a booth in a dark corner. The waitress approached, eyeing them distrustfully. Snape spoke quietly to her in Russian before looking at Hermione, raising his eyebrows and she nodded, Snape again speaking with the woman. The woman returned shortly with two glasses of vodka, and Snape handed over a gold coin.

Hermione turned so she could study the people in the bar. The waitress who kept glancing at them. An old man at the bar, seemingly passed out. Two younger men who watched them intently for a moment, before resuming an animated conversation. No one overly suspicious.

Snape considered Hermione as she sipped her drink. She looked older than her twenty-three years, was beautiful in an unconventional sort-of way. He thought of how she had been as a student, the annoying know-it-all, always keen to show off her vast intellect. And he remembered how she had changed. Her active participation in class had begun waning sometime during her sixth year, all of the teachers had noticed it, and it had been brought up in several faculty meetings, but since she still made high marks in all subjects, it was dropped.

Then there was her seventh year Potions project, which was so advanced that Snape doubted her ability to finish when she first approached him about it. But when she brought him the final work, he'd immediately suggested that she attend Berkeley, but she wanted to be actively fighting, not passively researching and studying. Snape realized that her rejection of his proposal marked the beginning of his current anger towards her, but he ignored it, knowing he had neither the time nor the effort needed to dissect his emotional health.

"How do you know this place?"

"As I said, Borodin was one of Voldemort's largest original supporters in Russia. He used to hold three or four dark revels a year." He paused, drinking slowly. "I was present at two, though I was never introduced to Borodin himself."

"What about Vasily?"

"He would have only been six at the time, too young to be able to ... participate in the festivities."

"Why was Borodin not arrested after Voldemort's defeat?"

"The Russian ministry wasn't exactly forthcoming when it came to Death Eaters. Though they never openly supported Voldemort, they certainly didn't assist us. The Russian ministry did bring charges against Borodin, but no one showed to testify, so the charges were dropped."

"Is he still active now?"

Snape shook his head. "Not to my knowledge, but I am excluded from many things now, especially concerning other Death Eaters."

"So who do we talk to then?"

"We start with her," he said, motioning to the waitress. Hermione quickly cast a translation charm on herself as the woman approached.

She nearly laughed, covering her mouth and turning the sound into a cough, when Snape opened his mouth and she heard his words in English, though his mouth obviously moved in Russian. It reminded her of an old kung-fu movie Harry made her watch once. 

"I am seeking a person who is called Borodin, Vasily Dmitrivich. Here is what he looks." Snape handed her a picture of Vasily. "Do you know of this man?"

The woman studied the photo, handed it back and shook her head. "No. No I do not. And you should not be asking these questions here. You must finish your drinks and go."

She abruptly left, Hermione and Snape sharing a glance. "I take it you got the gist of what she said."

"This doesn't look good, does it?"

"No. But there is one other place we must try," he said, downing his drink, Hermione following suit and finishing hers as well. The two men stared again as they left, and Hermione began to feel uncomfortable. 

As they crossed the street, she felt eyes on her, finally spotting a tall, menacing man down the street. She again felt uncomfortable, and quietly drew Snape's attention to the man.

"Yes, I noticed him when we arrived."

They entered what appeared to be a general store, since it sold everything from broomsticks and robes to cauldrons and wands. Snape approached the counter, and an old wizard appeared momentarily, hesitating as he surveyed his customers.

"Yes? No sellers here please."

"No selling. We are looking for a colleague we work with, this is him." Snape handed over the picture and watched the man closely.

"Yes, I know who this man is. Vasily Dmitrivich. He worked for me when he was teenager, before he left to be teacher in England."

"He was to be visiting his family here, but he did not make it to his family. We work at the school with him, the school who sent us to find him."

"It was him I saw on Tuesday, he came by to get a wand. He said the shop in London was not pleasing, and he wanted a wand of mine," the old man said, handing back the picture. "That is all I have seen him."

"Thank you, you are too kind," Snape said, bowing his head slightly.

"Think nothing of it."

Snape motioned to the door and they left, pausing outside. 

"Do we talk to the family now?" 

Snape nodded, then suddenly grasped his left arm, visibly wincing. "Not now," he muttered, oblivious to the look Hermione gave him.

"What?" When he did not answer, she pressed again. "What is it?"

"I am being summoned."

"Shit."

"My sentiments exactly."

"So what do we do? You have to go, right? Then I'll have to talk to the family."

Snape scowled. "This is not a good idea."

"I know, but what other choice do we have? You can't ignore the summons, and you certainly can't show up with me tagging along."

"Though I'm sure it would put me in good graces if I turned over a top Ministry auror," he said, his voice low and silky.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I think that's an even worse idea."

"Very well, find out what you can and return to Hogwarts. I will return as well, when I am finished," he said, moving to apparate.

"Wait, I need to know where the Borodin estate is."

"Just east of town, you cannot miss it."

"Right." She paused, watching him, adding softly, "Be careful."

Snape nodded tersely, apparating without response. Hermione immediately withdrew Dumbledore's map, scanning for the flashing 'x' that would designate his position, but the map showed he was still in Russia.

"This can't be right," she murmured, then cast the _invenio_ spell on herself. Another flashing 'x' appeared to mark Hermione's location, only kilometers away from Snape's. "Fuck."

~ ~ ~

Dumbledore sat down at his desk and removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes with one hand. A piece of parchment slipped from his other hand and fell to the desk.

_It's a trap. Get them back._

___  
A/N:

Sorry for the cliffhanger, but chapter 6 is going to be lots of fun and excitement. Excuse any typos or errors, I'm trying to get this posted before I go to work. Will come back and fix any problems ASAP. 

Again, thanks for reading, and let me know what you think! 


	6. Chapter Six

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Six

Hermione stared at the map, her mind racing. If Snape was only a few kilometers away, that meant Voldemort was here too, which meant Dumbledore had been wrong and this was a set-up after all. Which also meant that Snape might be in serious trouble.

_Shit._

Looking up, she again saw the man from earlier was still there, but now he was moving towards her.

_Shit!_

She decided the best thing to do would be to apparate back to Hogwarts and get Dumbledore. He'd know what to do. She closed her eyes and concentrated, but nothing happened. Confused, she looked up and saw the bleak, snow-covered street and the man advancing on her. Again she tried to apparate, and again nothing happened. 

_Double shit!_

She started walking briskly toward the wall separating the magical community from the Muggles, sorting through her situation. She was in an unfamiliar and unfriendly town, something was keeping her from apparating, a man was following her, Snape was quite possibly dead already, and she had no way of contacting anyone. Her options appeared slim indeed.

First things first, she had to get rid of the creep who was still behind her. She passed through the barrier, ducking down another street. She decided she had two choices: transfiguration, or an invisibility charm. She decided on the latter, since she would be able to still use her wand. She approached another turn, and slowed slightly, making sure her pursuer followed her down the next alley.

As she rounded the corner, Hermione uttered the invisibility spell and moved back, so that he didn't inadvertantly run into her. She readied her wand, waited.

"Stupefy!" she yelled as soon as she had an unobstructed view of him. 

The curse hit him square in the chest, and he collapsed immediately. She hurried to him, pulling him into the alley, muttering a quick charm to dissuade any Muggles or weaker magical folk from venturing near, then she removed her invisibility charm and aimed her wand at the man, muttering a spell. Thick rope shot out the end of her wand, wrapping itself around the unconcious figure on the ground. She removed the potions kit and withdrew a small vial labelled Veritaserum, something she'd found a necessity as an auror. She administered three drops to the man then carefully put away the rest and pointed her wand at him.

"Ennervate."

The man groaned and tried to move against the binding, and Hermione helped him to a sitting position. He looked at her blankly, his eyes glazed over.

"Who are you?" she began.

"Sergei Kirpichov."

"Why are you following me?"

"I was told to follow you and your companion."

"Who told you?"

"Vasily Borodin told me."

"Vasily?" she fumbled in her coat pocket for a copy of the picture Snape had given her before they left. "Is this the man?"

His eyes focused momentarily on the picture before answering, "Yes."

_What the hell is going on?_

"Have Death Eaters been here lately? Wizards in black robes with masks?" 

"I have seen many. We do not know who they are, and they frighten us. Tell us if we talk to you or your friend, they will kill us and our families."

"Is Dmitri Borodin involved in any of this?"

"The men in black robes stay with Dmitri."

"Have you seen Vasily with these black robes?"

"No. Vasily hates the black robes, and his father for being one of them. That is why his father is looking for him, because he won't join the black robes."

"Will you take me to Vasily?"

"Yes. I am supposed to bring you to him before you talk to his family."

If she could get to Vasily, he might be able to help sort this mess out. "Very well, you will now take me to him."

She muttered a few words and the ropes binding him slid off and disappeared. He stood and walked away, turning back to make sure she followed. After a few turns, they were on a street lined with nondescript houses, then he motioned to one in particular, a white two-story house with peeling paint and overgrown lawn. They climbed a few steps to a large open porch.

Sergei rapped on the front door twice, which opened after a few moments, revealing a short, blonde woman in her forties. "Sergei Fyodorovich, where have you been all this time? Is this her? The woman from England?"

"Yes, this is her. I was following her and her companion, but he left."

"Very well," the woman answered, and opened the door fully, allowing Hermione and Sergei to enter the house. She then led them past a staircase to a small sitting room, where she instructed Hermione to wait. Sergei then followed the woman upstairs.

Hermione inspected the room. There were two threadbare armchairs and an equally worn couch arranged in front of a lit fireplace. There were a few black and white family photos, non-magical, hanging on the white walls. Aside from that, the room was empty. She sat back and did the only thing she could do. She waited.

~ ~ ~

Snape quickly looked around after he apparated. He was standing in a courtyard, covered in snow. The place looked familiar, but he had visited so many places just like this over the last nine years. He saw a few black figures in one corner, talking in hushed voices, glancing at him, and another figure in black robes striding towards him, Lucius Malfoy. 

"Lucius," he growled.

"Severus, old friend," he replied, his distaste apparent as well. "He wishes to see you immediately."

He nodded, forcing all thoughts out of his mind, and followed Lucius inside the grand estate. They went upstairs and Lucius paused outside of one door.

"Wait," he instructed Snape, then went inside.

Snape stood patiently until Lucius reappeared moments later and waved him inside. The room was very large, possibly a ballroom Snape decided, and there was a great number of chairs and tables strewn about the room. He followed Lucius across the dim room, his eyes finally making out the shape of the Dark Lord in a large armchair. Peter Pettigrew stood nearby, watching as the two approached.

"Severus, so kind of you to join us," Voldemort hissed, and Snape felt the red eyes piercing into him.

"My Lord," he replied, kneeling down and kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes, quickly backing up and standing again.

"What news do you bring us from Hogwarts?"

Snape quickly ran through the information Dumbledore had approved to be passed along as misinformation, settling on something that Voldemort would surely know already. "There is great turmoil in the Ministry, between Fudge and Dumbledore, and Potter as well. There are rumors that Potter will try to take over the Ministry and be Dumbledore's puppet."

Voldemort watched Snape carefully, saying nothing. Pettigrew answered first.

"We already know that, Snape, it's in the Daily Prophet everyday."

Snape scowled at him, and turned back to Voldemort, saying, "My Lord, perhaps I can convince Dumbledore to --"

"To what?" the icy voice interrupted. "To give you more bad information to feed me?"

_He knows._

Snape's heart seized in his chest as the realization sunk in, though he betrayed nothing outwardly. Perhaps he could still salvage this. "Bad information? My Lord, I would never knowingly do such a thing. If I am receiving such information from Dumbledore, I shall kill him myself."

"Something you should have done years ago, Severus," Malfoy said. "Without that old fool, the Ministry would have crumbled long ago."

"But my Lord --"

"As much as I would like to play these games with you Severus, I do not have time." He paused, his red eyes narrowing as he raised his wand to Snape. "You had so much potential and yet you squandered it. I will enjoy this. _Crucio._"

The moment was strangely surreal to Snape. Time slowed and he looked at Pettigrew, stupid laughing Wormtail, Snape remembering the chance he'd had so many years ago to kill Pettigrew, how he had thrown it away because of his hatred for Harry Potter. Malfoy, slimy sneaky Malfoy. How many times had he pretended to be friends with that bastard, had turned a blind eye to his bastard son? And he looked at his supposed master, Voldemort, his red eyes glowing against the white face, his nostrils flaring as he smiled that wicked smile.

Snape thought of Dumbledore -- his friend, his only friend -- and McGonagall -- whose company he did enjoy from time to time, if he was honest with himself -- and Hogwarts -- his beloved dungeons, his only true home. If this was his life flashing before his eyes, he did not want to see it, for he loathed it more than he did Voldemort and all his Death Eaters.

The Cruciatus curse always hurt Snape more than he could ever expect. Every nerve in his body screamed in torment, and he dropped to his knees, using all of his self-control not to scream out, to beg for mercy. He fell forward on his arms, forehead to the ground, feeling himself nearing the bliss of unconciousness, only for the searing pain to end and be replaced with only a dull throbbing ache. He rolled to his side, gasping for breath, stomach heaving. 

"What news of Dmitri?" Voldemort asked.

"Nothing yet, my Lord," Lucius answered. "He has set the trap, and it is only a matter of time before she takes the bait."

"Severus, tell me where the girl is and I will consider killing you now, and spare you this pain."

_Hermione._

"I will give you a moment to decide."

Another wave of pain over took him, and Snape cried out, curling up into a ball and darkness washed over him.

~ ~ ~

Hermione slouched in her chair, feeling suddenly very tired. She reach back and rubbed a sore spot on her neck, stifling a yawn in the process. She bolted upright when Vasily Borodin strode in the room.

"Hermione Granger," he said, studying her. She took the opportunity to study him as well, since she hadn't the opportunity earlier in the week. He was tall, a good deal taller than she, and he had broad, thick shoulders. His black hair was not black after all, but a very deep brown, and he also had ice blue eyes. She wished that he had been _her_ Arithamancy professor, wondered how many students -- male and female -- took his class just because of how gorgeous he was.

She cleared her throat. "Vasily Borodin."

He sat down on the couch, away from her. "I suppose you want to know what this is all about, don't you?" She nodded, allowing him to continue. "I arrived here late Tuesday afternoon, and my friend Sergei Fyodorovich intercepted me before I was able to go to my father's. He told me that it was not safe to return home because of the Death Eaters."

"So you've been here since Tuesday?"

"Yes, hiding, though my father has been searching for me."

"If he knows you are here, why did he owl Dumbledore?" she mused aloud, thinking, and Vasily shrugged. "Fuck! Because Voldemort knew he would send Snape to look for you!"

"Snape? He's here?"

"Yes, and he's in grave danger. I believe Voldemort has him now."

Vasily nodded slowly, but before he could answer, Sergei returned. "Vasily, we need to hurry if we are to leave soon."

"Leave? Where are you going? We need to find Snape."

"I'm afraid saving Professor Snape isn't on my list of things to do today," Vasily said snidely, pulling out his wand and pointing at her. "You'll be joining him soon, as a matter of fact."

She looked at him in surprise. "But, what --"

"The Dark Lord wishes your presence, and I will be celebrated when I return with you."

_How could you be so stupid! You walked straight into their trap!_ she mentally berated herself. _Enough of that, more important to figure how I get out of this._

Sergei looked as surprised as Hermione, and he objected, "But Vasily, you cannot be one of the black robes!"

The other Russian smiled wickedly, his blue eyes glittering, turning his wand on his friend. "You have no idea, my friend. _Avada kedavra._" 

Green light shot out of Vasily's wand, and Sergei fell immediately. During Vasily's momentary distraction, Hermione yanked her wand out of her suit pocket and pointed it at him.

"_Expelliarmus!_" she shouted, easily catching his wand as it flew out of his hand and towards her. She jumped out of her chair as he stood and started towards her. "Stupefy!" 

The spell grazed his shoulder, knocking him back onto the couch. She knew he was only stunned momentarily, so she ran towards the door, Vasily shouting for the other woman as he struggled to stand. 

"_Alohomora!_" she cried, aiming her wand at the front door. She heard the woman on the stairs, and shot off another stupefy without looking, racing on. She reached the door and fumbled momentarily, finally wrenching it open. 

As she crossed the threshold, she transfigured and darted into the bushes, racing to the next house, where she paused, turning around to watch. Vasily emerged for a moment, glaring up and down the street, talking angrily to the woman who had joined him on the porch, then they both turned and walked back inside, slamming the front door. 

She waited a few minutes before setting off across the lawn. She went east, towards the edge of town. She knew she was alone now, that she had to get to Snape. She also knew she was going in completely blind, without true grasp of the opposition. Hermione summoned up all of her Gryffindor courage as she trotted, an ordinary grey cat racing down the street as dusk began to fall. 


	7. Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Seven

Snape groaned and opened his eyes to darkness, rolling slowly to his side, feeling the cold dirt floor under him. He shut his eyes again, his head throbbing, empty stomach heaving. After the nausea passed, he forced himself to sit up. Only a small amount of light came into the room, from around the edges of the door. 

He took stock of himself, attempting to ascertain the extent of his injuries. After he had passed out the first time, someone, Malfoy or Pettigrew, had awoken him with Ennervate so that Voldemort was able to use Cruciatus again, the second or third time after that he was allowed to pass out undisturbed. His left ankle throbbed and appeared to be swollen, so he tried a simple healing spell, but nothing happened. He frowned, unsure whether the spell failed because he didn't have his wand, or if there was an anti-magic spell at work. He tried again, concentrating, but again, nothing happened.

He stood timidly, crying out and nearly collapsing when he put weight on the ankle. He worked on filtering out the pain until he was able to hobble to the door. He pressed his ear to the wood, heard nothing. He hobbled back to the wall and slowly sat down and began to think.

Voldemort was obviously keeping him alive for some reason, though Snape didn't rule out the possibility that it was only for purposes of torture. Someone would be in shortly to interrogate him, though he had nothing worthwhile to give, since Dumbledore purposefully kept him ignorant of certain matters, in case of this such event occurring. Not for the first time, Snape was glad of Dumbledore's foresight. 

He sat there on the floor, gathering his strength, and eventually he dozed off.

He awoke with a shock, the door banging open and bright light pouring in. His mind reeled, finally focusing on the sight of Lucius Malfoy and another Death Eater, Avery, he thought. His whole body throbbed, though the pain was more manageable now.

"Wake up, Severus! I have something for you!" Lucius called with an evil grin. "Get his arms." Avery grabbed Snape's arms and held him still while Malfoy pulled out a bottle and advanced on them. "I'm afraid we need to have a very serious conversation, Severus."

He tried to pull away from Avery, who only held on tighter. Malfoy grabbed Snape by the neck and tilted the bottle to his lips, forcing potion down his throat. Snape coughed, tried to spit it out, but he felt it begin to take effect, his mental defenses beginning to slip. He slumped back into Avery, who let him fall back against the wall. His mind absently worked over the details of the potion, dissecting the tastes in his mouth.

_Too much dragon's blood, not enough Jobberknoll feathers. Looks like Draco's gotten sloppy on his potions making, or else Lucius got this elsewhere._

Lucius stepped forward, smiling. "How do you feel, Severus?"

His mouth opened against his will, despite his commands to stay silent. "Afraid." He nearly added that he had never been more frightened in his whole life, but found he was able to tell a partial truth without revealing feeling compelled to reveal the whole thing.

"Good. When did you begin working for Dumbledore?"

"At Voldemort's death, I began working at Hogwarts." _Though I had been spying for him some time before that._

"As a spy?"

"Yes." _As well as Potions Master._

"Did you do it to escape Azkaban?"

"Yes." _Partially_.

"What are Dumbledore's plans now?"

"I do not know." _That's the truth. Dumbledore and his bloody Order of the Phoenix. I'm always the last know._

"You don't know? How could you not know!"

"Dumbledore only feeds me misinformation so I cannot betray any real secrets." _What else did you expect?_

Malfoy frowned "Why is Hermione Granger working at Hogwarts?"

"Harry Potter had a large dispute with Cornelius Fudge, and he sent Granger to Hogwarts as punishment." _Bloody Granger! My punishment ... or my penance._

"There's no secret plans going on involving Hogwarts in a campaign against Voldemort?"

"I do not know." 

Malfoy scowled and turned away, pacing. "Do you know anything, you pathetic pile of shit?" he muttered. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You could turn me loose and we could forget about this whole thing." _Let that one slip._

"Think you're funny, do you!" Malfoy fumed. He crossed the room and backhanded Snape, his head slamming into the wall, blood pouring from a gash above his right eye. He fell over, resting on his hands and knees, Malfoy kicking him in the ribs, his breath becoming sharp and ragged. "Avery, wait outside."

Avery shrugged, leaving the room, pulling the door closed behind him. Lucius smiled wickedly as he removed his robe and started towards Snape. 

"I should have had this conversation with you a long time ago, Severus."

~ ~ ~

Hermione carefully made her way up to the old castle, staying in the shadows and landscaping, using her heightened feline senses to avoid anyone. She slipped into the house behind one Death Eater. She followed him to the kitchen, hiding around the corner under a table.

"Where have you been? What happened?"

"That fool pretending to be Vasily let her get away. Don't worry, we will find her."

"She must not escape, it's important, Dmitri."

"I understand. And her companion?"

"Don't worry about him. Lucius is tending to him now, in the dungeons."

"Excellent. And what of my son?"

"He is there as well, asleep."

"I should like to see him."

"Later, perhaps. The Dark Lord wants to see you, regarding the evening's festivities."

"Of course, everything has already been arranged."

She heard their footsteps retreat and began searching for the dungeons. It didn't take her long to find the long passage that descended below the main castle. She proceeded slowly down the twisting hallway, until it reached a dead-end. She let her ears direct her, and she cautiously peered around the right corner, where she saw a large man leaning at the end of the hallway. She then glanced the other way, but there was nothing, just an empty corridor. She pulled back from the corner, thinking.

Malfoy had to be in the room, with the one standing guard. She didn't know how many others would be in the room with Malfoy, so she needed to get rid of the goon without alerting them to her presence. This would require a little planning. 

She stuck her head around the corner and meowed. The Death Eater glanced at her, and when she meowed again, he frowned. She walked out towards him, her tail twitching in an invitation. He started towards her and she raced back and transfigured, her wand ready as he came around the corner. 

"Stupefy, stupefy!" she said quietly, both spells hitting him before he could react. He fell, his body thudding softly on the ground. Moving forward quickly, and readying herself for battle, she pointed her wand at the door and called softly, "_Alohomora._"

~ ~ ~

Malfoy paused mid-punch as he heard the thud, looking over his shoulder to the door. He looked back to Snape's bloody face, seeing a smile beginning to spread there.

"Avery?" Malfoy called, rearing back to punch Snape again. "What are you smiling for?"

Snape was ready this time, and he caught Malfoy's hand before it could connect with his face, his nails digging into flesh, relishing the look of shock on Malfoy's face. 

"Because I'm going to enjoy this."

He twisted Malfoy's arm roughly, forcing him to turn around, as he brought his other arm up around his throat. Malfoy began to struggle, his hands clutching at Snape's arms, trying to pull himself loose. Snape tightened his grip and twisted, feeling the snap of the neck. He let go, watched Malfoy's body fall to the ground. 

He breathed heavily and leaned against the wall, suddenly exhausted, the adrenaline surge leaving his body. He slowly became aware of a presence in the room, of someone standing at the door looking at him. He looked up, not caring if it was another Death Eater, if he lived or died, or anything at all. And suddenly he realized that he wanted to live, at least long enough to give Dumbledore a piece of his mind for having put him in a situation to owe his life to yet another Gryffindor. 

"Miss Granger," he uttered, with as much irony as he could muster, "how terribly noble, courageous and _Gryffindor_ of you to come and rescue me."

Hermione stood in semi-shock, not quite believing that she had just seen her ex-Potions Master kill another wizard, with his own hands, no less. She felt a strange combination of awe and disgust, with a little sympathy for good measure. His greeting would have pissed her off normally, but at that moment, when she looked into his black eyes, she saw beyond his words, saw him, really saw him. And she understood.

"Nice to see that while you stand there bleeding to death, you haven't lost your sarcasm, Snape," she answered, trying not to smile too much. "Look, are you ready to get out of here or what?"

"Of course, I am, you silly girl."

"Need to hide him first."

She walked back into the hallway, levitating Avery's body to the room. When his head crossed the threshold, it thudded to the ground. Hermione frowned as his shoulders also fell, and she could no longer move him.

"What the hell?"

"Some kind of anti-magic aura on this room."

"Then you better help me."

He gingerly put weight on his ankle, hissing, "Fuck! Fucking Merlin's balls!"

"Never mind, I've got it," she said, struggling to pull Avery into the room. "I think Vasily's down here too. I overheard Dmitri upstairs."

"And I suppose we should make some effort to look for him," he answered drily. He carefully knelt down in front of Malfoy and dug through the pockets of his robes, looking for Malfoy's wand, finding his own as well, and he realized Malfoy must have taken it earlier. He stood slowly, ignoring Hermione's concerned look when he groaned. "Very well, let us find Mister Borodin and go home."

"Yes, sir."

As they left the room, Hermione cast a complex spell on the door, one she had perfected over the last few years. It was a three-part lock, that also cast a short-term memory spell that could not be broken by only one person. Some of her better ones had required no less than five wizards or witches to break. Admiring her work, she transfigured back into the grey cat, and darted down the hallway, deeper into the dungeons. Snape limped behind her at a safe distance, realizing that she was scouting ahead for them innocuously. 

She trotted along, passing doors that led to empty rooms, slowing down for a turn, then continuing along. She stopped suddenly, heard Snape stop as well, and she sniffed the air cautiously. She approached one door, listening carefully, then she ran back to Snape and transfigured.

"Someone's in there, alone. I think we should go in."

He nodded. "Don't worry, Miss Granger. I'll cover you."

Rolling her eyes, she started back down the hallway, sneaking up quietly to the door. "_Alohomora_." She praised the gods that she had learned that one so long ago. She reached the door, flinging it open, holding her wand ready. 

Vasily Borodin sat on a small cot in the corner of the room, confusion apparent on his face. She stuck her head out into the hallway and waved Snape in.

"Vasily, it's Hermione. Hermione Granger." He stared at her disbelieving, and she added, "We met briefly on Tuesday morning. Breakfast at Hogwarts. I'm the new DADA teacher."

He blinked several times, shaking his head slightly, then focused on Snape who appeared in the doorway. "Snape?"

"How very astute of you, Borodin."

"What happened to you? You look like hell."

"I was submitted to the Cruciatus many times, then given a large amount of truth potion and beaten by Malfoy," Snape answered with a snarl.

"And?" Hermione prompted.

Snape glared fiercely at her, a cold edge to his voice as he uttered, "And then I killed him and Granger freed me."

"How much of that potion did he give you?" she asked.

"I do not know, but I am not experiencing any symptoms of overdose."

"How long do you think it will last?"

"I am uncertain. I do think we should discuss after we escape. We could have Death Eaters after us at any moment."

"Right, right," she turned to Vasily. "Are you okay? Can you walk?"

"Yes, I'm fine, few bruises, nothing bad," he answered as he stood, walking to the door. 

Hermione decided he looked just as good as the imposter had, if not a little worse for wear. As he approached, she held out her hand, her palm pressing against his chest and he stopped, a question appearing in his eyes.

"What did you say to me the other morning, at breakfast?" she asked, studying his face intently. 

He smiled faintly. "Why, Professor, I don't believe I said anything at all. Forgive me for being rude."

"Not at all, and forgive me as well, for doubting it was you," she replied with a smile. "I'd already had one bad experience with you today, that's all. One other thing, _invenio_."

"What was that for?"

"So I can keep track of you, should we get separated."

"Are you finished yet? Shall we continue on now?" Snape asked, extreme irritation evident.

She eyed him with concern. "Do you want me to try to heal some--"

"No!" he interrupted fiercely, his eyes glittering dangerously. "Not now, maybe later when we are safe. I am fine for now."

She nodded slowly, and as they moved into the hallway, she asked, "Which way now? Back upstairs?"

"Wait, there's a passage out of the dungeons, leads to the forest east of here," Vasily volunteered. "My sister and I found it when we were young, but I think we're the only ones who know about it. The dungeons haven't been used regularly since the 1800s."

Hermione looked to Snape, who merely shrugged. "Very well, let's go."

___  
A/N: 

Love it? Hate it? Don't give a fuck one way or the other? Let me know, I need constructive criticism! 


	8. Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Eight

It was dark when they reached the forest finally, undetected as Vasily had predicted. They stopped before entering the forest, as Snape had finally consented and was allowing Hermione to tend to his wounds. Vasily stood look out at the edge of the trees. 

She worked quickly and expertly, sealing cuts and ministering to bruises on his face. She motioned for his robes, and he grudgingly assented, stripping to the waist. He was too thin, she decided, but also wiry and strong judging from the flat muscles. Pale as well, almost sallow. She put her hands on him, felting his breath catch ever so slightly. She murmured quietly, her hands passing over his chest, and she noted absently that his skin was very warm. She moved round to his back, feeling his skin prickle, wondering idly if she was the cause, or if it was the cold.

She finished, and Snape put his clothes back on, noting with extreme irritation that he did feel better, at least on the outside. Inside still quivered like gelatin from Cruciatus. Two days was his usual recovery time after a visit with Voldemort, but this hadn't been any regular visit. It had been a bit more personal than that. 

He watched with interest as she mixed a potion then handed it to him.

"Go on, drink it," she encouraged him, gesturing with her hands when he stared at her.

"What is it?"

"Drink it and I'll tell you."

"Miss Granger, I have found it essential to my health to not drink strange potions. Therefore, I will not drink this concoction until you divulge the contents."

She saw there was to be no more arguing, and so consented. "Fine, alright. It's a simple pain-killer with valerian root and phoenix tears."

Snape eyed her skeptically, then eyed the potion, and back to Hermione. "Am I a guinea pig, Miss Granger?"

"Look, Snape, if you're as smart as you say you are, you should know what it will do."

"Very well," he snarled, downing the potion efficiently, then passed the empty flask. "Have you tried this on anyone else before, or am I your human guinea pig?"

She unsuccessfully tried to suppress a grin. "I've been meaning to, but Ron wouldn't ever let me do Cruciatus on him. Didn't trust my potions. So you're the first practical experience, yes."

He scowled. "Practical? What, have you had theoretical experiments?" He suddenly realized the pain, the throbbing inside was easing, until it lingered on the edge of consciousness, still there, though he found he could ignore it with practice.

"Yes, actually, Harry's a genius at computers, so he does all these programs for probabilities in potions or spells or whatnot. So I have a pretty good idea how this potion is going to work."

"Gods, why must Potter torment me even now? Was not seven years enough, that I must now endure this as well?" 

"Oh, quit being so melodramatic."

"I assure you, I am not being melodramatic, Miss Granger. I am being honest. I am still under truth serum."

"Well then, since you're being so honest, why don't we discuss what I've done to piss you off so much?" Her eyes glinted, and her face lost all traces of humor.

"You have done many things, Miss Granger," he forced out, "and I think we should discuss them at a later, more appropriate time."

"Fine, but give me one answer first. Was it because I didn't listen to you? Didn't take your scholarship to California?" she asked, anger bubbling below the surface. 

He heard it there as well, and did not want to fight her just now, since it would surely attract unwanted attention, but mostly, he lacked the energy to give her a proper row. "Yes. In part." She frowned and he quickly added, "We will discuss this later, I give you my word."

"Very well," she answered, forcing herself to relax. "I suppose I should tell you that there might be certain side-effects of the potion. Just from the numbers." She continued, ignoring his disgruntled look. "Stomach irritation, maybe. Something intestinal."

As if on cue, his stomach heaved, and he expelled the meager contents of his stomach, namely the now-inert potion, onto the ground. He stayed bent over a moment before turning to her. 

"You might warn me of side-effects before hand. I believe I would prefer the previous ache to this."

She nodded, acknowledging her mistake, and they joined Borodin at the forest edge.

"This anti-apparition spell runs about 5 to 7 kilometers, I believe. That would cover the town as well."

"That's a bit larger than usual," Hermione mused. "Probably has some kind of detection spell as well. Can you add anything, Professor Snape?"

"I was never involved in security, as my specialty has always been potions, not spells."

"Foolish wand-waving, right?" she asked innocently, ignoring his scowl in response. "Well, they probably aren't expecting people to break out, right? So it should be at the perimeter."

"Actually, I don't believe they will use a detection spell on the forest, because it would be disrupted by werewolves," Vasily interjected. "There is a full moon tonight."

"Then we go through the forest," Hermione decided, glancing up to the large, partially concealed moon.

"Great," Snape drawled. "What's a night of fighting off Death Eaters without fighting off werewolves as well?"

"You don't want to go with us? Fine, you're welcome to find your own way home," she said with a shrug. "Did you get Malfoy's wand? Give it to Vasily, he'll need it."

Snape's scowl deepened and he tossed the wand on the ground near Vasily, who picked it up and began moving into the forest. Hermione followed, pulling out Dumbledore's map and verified that Vasily was indeed leading them in the right direction. She also tried to judge the distance to the edge of the spell, which appeared to be right in the middle of the forest. The forest filled with werewolves on the night of a full moon. 

_No wonder he's not happy_, she realized.

Snape trudged behind her sullenly, making evident his displeasure. She dropped back a few paces from Vasily and was closer to Snape. His face grimaced in pain, though it seemed less than before.

"So, tell me Professor. Your not wanting to be here doesn't have anything to do with Lupin and Black, does it?"

She heard the venom in his voice as he spat, "Of course it does. What else could it be?"

This was obviously still a sore spot for him. She knew that Sirius and Remus were occasional guests at Hogwarts, Order business, she presumed. She doubted their continued presence helped things much. They walked in silence for awhile, Hermione screwing up her courage.

"Will you tell me now?" During his silence, adding, "Why you hate me?"

"I suppose you aren't going to let this rest until then, are you, Miss Granger?"

"Could you drop the 'Miss Granger' bit? I'm not your student anymore, and it's getting old." 

Snape glanced at her in the semi-darkness, surprised by the flatness in her voice. Again, silence overtook them. She started when he broke it, his voice so soft she had to struggle to hear him.

"You are right in part. I did not believe you capable of creating that potion."

"Mortalis fallax," she murmured. 

"Yes, a most difficult potion, yet you had very little difficulty at all. In your second year, you made polyjuice potion, I've since found out. Even now, you continue to work on potions and spells. You could have done anything you wanted, in potions or charms, and you chose instead to become hired muscle. To use force rather than intellect."

She was stunned. She hadn't expected anything more than the potions project and her refusal of his suggestion of Berkeley, and she was bewildered that he would care so much about her choice of career.

"Is that all? Any other reasons?" she asked sarcastically.

"Yes. You stole ingredients from me."

"Only one ingredient, boomslang skin, for the polyjuice," she objected.

"What about the gillyweed during that Goblet of Fire nonsense?"

"That wasn't me and you know it."

"But it was stolen on account of your friend Potter."

"And exactly what does that have to do with me? Was I personally responsible for the stealing of your gillyweed?"

He glowered at her. "No."

"Since my choice of vocation is mine alone, I do not see how --" She trailed off as she saw Vasily halt and motion towards them urgently. They hurriedly crept up to his position.

"There's one to the left," he murmured. "About fifty meters."

She scanned the forest, spotting the werewolf almost immediately. It was standing over the carcass of a deer, feeding; it hadn't yet noticed them. She cursed herself mentally, knowing that she would have spotted the creature herself had she not been arguing with Snape. 

"Tell me, Professor Granger," Snape drawled. "Since you are the resident Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, how should we deal with this werewolf?"

"We stun it, and keep going. It will be out long enough for us to get away."

"And then it would pick up our scent and hunt us down. We kill it."

Vasily agreed. "He is right, we must kill it. These werewolves are exceptionally fast. Plus the smell of blood should distract others nearby."

She relented, and Snape nodded when she asked, "Killing curse?"

They snuck up on the creature, wands drawn. A twig snapped and the creature stared directly at them, only twenty meters away, and it moved towards them.

"Now!" she exclaimed, though unnecessarily. The other two men had leveled their wands at the creature and cast the spell, green light shooting out of both wands. The werewolf stumbled and howled, though it did not fall.

"Anytime you're ready, Miss Granger," Snape snarled, his eyes and wand never leaving the creature. 

She scowled at his turned back, aiming her wand at the werewolf and muttering the curse. It was not her first time using the killing curse, had used it once before against a Death Eater who hadn't been shy about trying to kill her, so she killed him first. Not that she didn't regret it later. 

A third green light hit the creature, and finally it dropped to the ground. Vasily approached the still figure cautiously, inspecting the now human body, and called back, "It's dead."

They continued through the forest, with Vasily again at the lead, Hermione behind him monitoring their progress by the map, and Snape and his thoughts bringing up the rear.

~ ~ ~

The mortalis fallax potion. It caused the body of the person to shut down momentarily, to die in essence, then allowed it to resume normal functions. Snape could not recall the exact purpose of the potion, and had to search for it, finding it eventually in _Most Potente Potions_, though it had not surprised him to see that Granger had been spending time in the Restricted Section of the library. The potion had no true practical applications, and he had been curious as to her desire to make it, but she never volunteered her reasons, and he never asked. 

The potion had hovered on the edge of his thoughts from the time she announced her intention of brewing it until term's end. The night of the Leaving Feast, the day before graduation, he sat scowling in his office, debating whether to defy Dumbledore and stay holed up in his rooms all night rather than chaperone. On this particularly bad evening, he was thinking he would rather be summoned to Voldemort and face the Unforgivables, despite Dumbledore's assurances that the evening would be 'fun.' His mind distractedly brought up Hermione's potion, how it might be able to fool Avada Kedavra. 

This thought unsettled Snape so much that he decided he must confront Hermione about it. He immediately pulled on his robes and ventured off to the festivities. He found her at last, outside in the gardens, with Potter and Weasley, of course, as well as several other Gryffindors. He managed to separate her from the other Gryffindors, but Harry and Ron weren't about to let Hermione alone with him. 

"Why did you pick the mortalis fallax potion?" he asked her, his voice taking a slight edge. "What were you going to do with it?"

She looked at him blankly, answering, "I picked it out of a book, that's all."

"You never considered using it against the killing curse?"

"Against the killing --" she began, her words slightly slurred. She lurched towards Ron and whispered rather loudly, "See? Told you he'd hate my potion."

_They've been drinking_, he realized, his anger growing. "Miss Granger," he hissed dangerously, ignoring Harry and Ron who had begun edging up protectively. "Did you or did you not factor in the Avada Kedavra curse when you made the mortalis fallax?"

"No, I did not. I just picked it because it looked difficult and interesting," she answered, meeting his stare bravely, though her heart beat through her chest.

"Very well," he answered, falling a step back from them. He regarded her silently. "Tell me, Miss Granger. Have you decided on a career path?"

Her gaze faltered, and Harry nudged her. "Go on, tell him."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, 'Mione."

Bolstered by their encouragements, she met his glare. "I'm an auror. Got accepted with Harry and Ron yesterday."

Snape's eyes darkened, and he was flooded with a myriad of emotions, anger with her for not studying _something_ further, for being selfish with her mind when she should be sharing it, and for putting this potion in his hands that he knew was important, but one that he could not understand. And he hated Potter and Weasley for having been party to this, for surely they assisted her in this conclusion. She saw his eyes flash before hardening, then she saw nothing but hatred.

"No doubt, Miss Granger, it is much easier to follow another's path rather than forge one for oneself," he sneered, his eyes taking in Potter and Weasley, before storming away, his robes billowing.

~ ~ ~

They crossed the forest with minimal conversation. They had passed the five kilometer mark, but the spell still held. They continued, stopping every once in a while for Vasily to attempt to apparate. Near the six kilometer point, Vasily had in fact disapparated, startling both Snape and Hermione. 

_Home_, she thought. She glanced at Snape with some concern, asking, "Are you alright to apparate?"

"I am not sure," he growled, irritated that he had been forced to admit his worry to her. He had grown accustomed to the pain, but he was still physically exhausted, didn't know if he had the strength to apparate.

"Do you want -- do you need help?"

"Yes, of course! Just hurry!" He scowled as best he could as she stepped towards him, wrapping his arms loosely around her shoulders as she slipped her arms around his waist. He squeezed his eyes closed and felt her arms tighten briefly, and his breathing became forced, then they were gone.

It was still dark when he opened his eyes, relieved to see the familiar path from Hogsmeade, and not snow. As he disentangled himself from Hermione, he saw Vasily attempting to talk to Dumbledore while Madame Pomfrey fussed about holding a potion. Seeing Snape and Hermione, Poppy left Vasily holding the potion and rushed over. 

"Severus! Are you alright?"

"Do I look alright?" he retorted. "Tonight I've suffered _crucio_ more times than I care to remember, was given a great deal of truth potion, was beat up physically, and then suffered severe stomach irritation."

"What you need --"

"Is a good night's sleep in my own bed!" His voice was sharp for only a moment, before he softened. "Poppy, I will be fine. I just need rest."

She nodded and turned to Hermione, who waved her off with a simple, "I'm fine."

Dumbledore broke away from Vasily and approached them.

"Severus, Hermione, it is good to have you home," he began, the relief evident in his voice. "I believe we should save all discussion for the morning. I am rather tired myself."

Watching the old wizard suppress a yawn only made Hermione want to yawn that much more. She hadn't realized how tired she was, didn't even know what time it was as she followed the others back to the castle.

___  
A/N: 

Sorry about the over-abundance of action ... kinda got carried away. :) There might be a small delay on Ch 9, as I have a paper due next week. But rest assured, I'll be writing in every spare minute. 

Again, thanks for all the reviews, they really do make my day! 


	9. Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Nine

After everyone had rested, Dumbledore debriefed the three professors together on Saturday after lunch in his office. Vasily and Hermione sat in armchairs before Dumbledore's desk, and Snape had found his customary chair by the fire. They all declined the headmaster's offer of lemon drops.

They at first only discussed Vasily's involvement, from the time he had disappeared until the three had returned to Hogwarts. Dumbledore then excused Vasily and listened to Hermione and Snape fill in their versions.

"It would seem Professor Borodin has no knowledge of your actions prior to his release, Severus," he announced, seemingly satisfied. "I believe your secret is still safe."

"What of the Ministry?" Snape demanded. 

He seemed paler than usual, though Hermione thought it hard to tell since he always looked pallid. She wondered if it was a side-effect of her potion or _crucio_. 

"The Minister is heeding my advice on this matter and is not going to become involved."

"What about Voldemort? What if word got out from that side?" Hermione asked, turning to face Snape.

"He would never let this get out, especially since I escaped."

"But now, won't he stop at nothing to get you back? Because you escaped?"

Snape shrugged. "He does take betrayal rather seriously."

She turned back to Dumbledore. "Sir, I believe this might put Hogwarts at risk; Voldemort might risk an attack to get Professor Snape. I think it would be wise to arrange for more protection."

The older wizard inclined his head in agreement and said, "Of course, Hermione. I will owl Cornelius immediately. Severus, I do not want you leaving the castle grounds for any reason. If there is something you require for your potions, Hermione shall see to it. I do seem to recall that she had the highest Potions marks among her year."

Snape did not seem particularly pleased by this judging by the deep scowl that crossed his face, but he said nothing.

"Do you have anything further to report?"

"No, sir," Hermione answered, and Snape shook his head. 

"Very well then."

Snape took that as a dismissal and stalked out of the office; Hermione followed him, catching up to him on the revolving staircase.

"How are you feeling, Professor?" she asked tentatively. "Any more side effects from the potion I gave you?"

He turned at the bottom of the stairs and glared at her. "I did not sleep last night, the nausea returned, not to mention a bout of diarrhea, and my skull still feels as if it has been split open. Other than that, no."

To his satisfaction, her jaw had dropped slightly and it took her a moment to recover. 

"I apologize," she said sincerely. "I did not expect for it to be so serious. I will have to work on that."

"Find your next test subject elsewhere, Miss Granger," he snarled before stalking off, leaving a frowning Hermione in his wake.

~ ~ ~

Monday morning came early, and Hermione woke to a bundle of nerves in her stomach. She pulled herself out of bed and showered, then spent an inordinate amount of time determining her clothes for the day. Finally dressed, she left her rooms, only to realize on the second floor that she didn't have her wand. She returned to her rooms and found her wand, then she made her way down to the Great Hall, smiling nervously at the students she passed. When she arrived, she found she had no appetite, in fact quite the opposite, as she looked at all the students eating breakfast, and she had to fight the urge to race back to her rooms and bury herself under the covers.

_Just great, Granger. First day of class and you're having a breakdown? _

She thought about Anne's words from last night. After the Sorting and the feast, she and Anne had talked, with Hermione giving her a highly edited version of Vasily's rescue. Hermione had then confessed her fears about her teaching abilities. 

"You just have to bullshit," Anne had replied. "The students think you're qualified because you are the teacher. Just don't let them see you nervous."

She had faced down scores of Death Eaters, so what were a few hundred students? Taking a deep breath, she pushed through the doors to the Great Hall and strode towards the other professors, smiling at the students that made eye contact.

Dumbledore and McGonagall were deep in conversation as she approached, but they paused to greet Hermione. She sat between Sprout and Hagrid and made small talk while forcing down some fruit and a piece of toast, knowing she would be dying of hunger before lunch. She sipped her coffee as she watched the students, feeling her anxiety slowly subside.

Suddenly a tawny owl flew through the high windows and swooped down in front of her. The owl was holding a red apple and also carried a note. She untied the note and gave her crusts to the owl, who hooted appreciatively. She unfolded the paper, and her heart leapt as she recognized the handwriting.

'Sorry I couldn't see you off, but my thoughts are with you. Love, H. P.S. An apple for the teacher on her first day.'

She laughed, and pulled out a scrap of paper and scrawled a quick thanks, then tied it to the owl's leg, who took off immediately. Hermione drained the mug of coffee, grabbed her note and apple, and made her way to the classroom to prepare.

As she reached the room, Hermione remembered that her first class would be the fourth year Slytherins and she groaned audibly. She hoped they would be better behaved than the Slytherins she had gone to school with, though she did have her doubts.

Fifteen minutes into the class and her doubts were confirmed, and she stormed off to the dungeons, dragging a Slytherin behind her.

~ ~ ~

Severus Snape prowled the Potions classroom, hands clasped behind his back, criticizing the first year Gryffindors while praising the Slytherins, when the door flew open, banging into the stone wall. Snape whirled, ready to berate whomever was disrupting his class, until he saw an extremely irate Hermione Granger holding a student by the back of his robes. He immediately recognized the student as one of his own, a fourth year named Thomas Wilcox, who had been something of a troublemaker so far. 

"Excuse me, Professor," she began, her eyes flaring. "Might I have a word with you in your office?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, Professor Granger, I am in the middle of a class."

"As I should be as well." 

All of the first years had stopped working on their potions and were staring expectantly at the two professors and the student who was obviously in trouble. 

"Get back to work!" he snapped. "If any of you does not finish his or her potion by the time I return, you will all receive detention for a week!"

With that, he started to his office without looking at Hermione. She moved Thomas towards an empty chair and instructed him to sit, then followed Snape to the office and shut the door behind her. 

Snape's office hadn't changed much in the last few years. The shelves were still overflowing potions texts and jars filled with strange, pickled things. His desk was neat, a few rolls of parchment sat to the side. 

"What can I do for you?" he drawled, his tone making it clear he had no real interest in helping her.

"You can discipline your students, Professor," she growled. "We were practicing simple protection charms when Thomas felt the need to set fire to Amanda Ashby's robes. She is with Madam Pomfrey now."

Snape stared at her coldly for a few moments, not saying anything, and she met his stare. Finally he answered, "Very well, I will see to his punishment."

Hermione opened the office door and motioned to the boy, who swaggered in with a smug smile for his Head of House and sat down in a chair in front of the desk.

"Did I tell you to sit?" Snape snarled, irritated not for the first time at the arrogance that ran rampant in his house. Thomas looked startled, then quickly stood up. "Mister Wilcox, by your actions this morning you have earned yourself a week of detention with Hagrid. You will begin this afternoon."

"And I am deducting forty points from Slytherin for your misconduct," Hermione added, casting a quick scowl at Snape.

"Return to the Slytherin common room until your next class. Dismissed." He waited until Thomas had left the office before returning his attention to Hermione. "Forty points from Slytherin? Seems a bit harsh to me."

"I seem to remember you taking a lot more points from Gryffindor for much less, Professor."

"No doubt it was warranted," he said silkily, his eyes drilling into her. "If that is all Miss Granger, I have a roomful of first years that have no doubt begun destroying my dungeons."

She had had enough of his derisive tone, as well as the 'Miss Granger' bit.

"Professor Snape! I am no longer your student, but your co-worker, and as such, you do not get to call me Miss Granger anymore! You will address me as Professor or Hermione!"

Her eyes glinted but he matched her stare, and they stood there, not blinking for nearly a minute. 

"Very well, _Professor_," he snarled, inflecting as much hatred into the word as possible.

He stood quickly and swept past her, flinging open the office door, glaring indiscriminately at the students who cowered behind their cauldrons. Hermione moved to the door of the classroom, giving smiles of encouragement to the few Gryffindors who unknowingly risked Snape's wrath to watch her leave.

"Miss Jones, the directions clearly state you are to use crushed, not whole beetle eyes," Hermione heard Snape say, recognizing the tone of voice he had used to berate Neville Longbottom, and she turned back at the open door. Snape's eyes found hers, and he smiled a nasty little smile as he added, "Ten points from Gryffindor for not reading instructions."

___  
A/N:

Soooo sorry! I know I said the next chapter would be a few weeks, but I got side-tracked. I've got a lot going on, so I'm hoping to do a chapter every other week until the semester is over, which is the first week of May. 

Moria - Thanks for the Lucius bit! I totally did not notice that at all in my re-readings! D'oh! But thanks, and I fixed it ... I think! And I agree about the erection bit so I reworded it .... LMK!

Again, muchas gracias for the reviews! They are what actually kicked me back into gear and got me to finish this chapter. 


	10. Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Ten

The weeks had raced by until suddenly it was Halloween and the term was halfway over. For Severus, the passage of time was a blessing, for he relished his time spent alone, for days on end, working in his dungeons.

He set down his quill and rolled up the parchment he had been massacring with red ink. That was the last of the third year midterms and he was thoroughly disgusted by the lot. He thought that surely after two years of his careful and guided tutelage, some of them might actually grasp the basics of potions brewing; but they all appeared to lack the potions making instinct.

His thoughts turned briefly to Draco Malfoy, one of his brightest students, along with Granger, his mind wouldn't let him forget. Too bad Draco hadn't been able to escape his own father's influence. However, judging by that pathetic excuse for Veritaserum he had concocted for Lucius, perhaps Draco was slipping and becoming careless.

He stood, stretching to relieve the tension in his back. The feast was due to start in a few minutes and Dumbledore had made it clear that he expected Severus to attend. He stalked through the corridors to the Great Hall, pleased to deduct twenty points from Gryffindor for a pair of snogging fourth years. 

He entered the Hall and paused, eyes taking in the entire room, nodding briefly in the direction of the Slytherin table. It seemed the feast had already started, judging by the heaping platters on the tables. He started to the Head Table and caught sight of Granger giggling with the Muggle Studies professor, something Wilde; it would not be worth his time to try to remember her first name.

He had known from the moment Dumbledore told him, Granger would be trouble. Despite his efforts, she did not try to avoid him, but in fact actually sought him out on occasion. Just last week she had the nerve to ask him to brew up a batch of Veritaserum for her sixth years. Severus had finally agreed, knowing she would tattle to Dumbledore if he didn't. She arrived early to pick up the potion, which led to a few awkward minutes while he finished brewing. She wandered quietly through the workroom, inspecting his jars of ingredients and looking at his other ongoing projects. She didn't ask about them, and he certainly didn't volunteer any information. 

Granger glanced over at him, in mid-sentence, and their eyes locked for a moment, until Severus scowled and looked to Dumbledore, who was smiling broadly at him. How he hated that man at times. He wondered how soon he could sneak out without being noticed.

Severus sat on his usual end by Slytherin, nodding tersely to Flitwick who sat to his left. 

"Have you finished all of your mid-terms, Severus?" Flitwick asked as Severus filled his plate.

"Nearly."

"Any prodigies in the first years?"

Severus snorted but didn't answer, and Flitwick abandoned all efforts of polite conversation with him.

He couldn't remember ever being a social person. From a young age, he had discovered that he preferred the quietness of his own thoughts over the inane chatter from others. Once every few years, he would allow Albus or Minerva to talk him into an evening drink, or even a trip to Hogsmeade, but he still preferred the quiet and dark of his dungeons. 

Finally dinner ended, and Dumbledore instructed everyone to stand. With a wave, the tables and chairs moved against the walls, the lighted jack-o-lanterns dimmed, and the walls began emitting some hideous Muggle music. He didn't recognize it, but many of the students did, judging by the clapping and squeals of approval. He prowled the Hall for several songs, until he could take no more, then slipped out under the watchful eye of Dumbledore.

~ ~ ~

Hermione walked slowly back to her rooms, stuffed from the wonderful feast, and she allowed her mind to wander. Ever since she had been in Snape's dungeons for the Veritaserum and had seen the potions he had been working on, something had been tickling at the back of her mind, some thought that seemed to slip further when she tried to focus on it. 

Yawning, she gave the password to Lucinda, in the portrait to her quarters, and headed straight for her bedroom. She disrobed, pulling on a cotton tank top and shorts, then climbed under the covers and reached for the book she had been reading on Alchemy, _Water Into Wine and Other Miraculous Feats_. 

Suddenly, something clicked in her mind and she jumped out of bed and ran to her sitting room where she pulled out _Moste Potente Potions_. Flipping through the pages, she found what she was looking for: the mortalis fallax. As she reviewed the ingredients list, she realized that he must have been experimenting on his own, because the list did not match what she had seen. 

_But why mortalis fallax?_

She vaguely remembered him confronting her about the potion right before graduation, but she didn't understand his motivation then when she was a seventh year, and she still didn't understand, five years later. She was determined to find out this time.

She grabbed her teaching robes and pulled them on as headed back into the hallway and towards the dungeons. She stopped first at his classroom, which was empty, then knocked on the office door, but there was no response. Hermione remembered that he had left the Halloween festivities early, so he could have already retired for the night. She decided it wouldn't hurt to take a glance at the potion, just to see if she was indeed correct.

She opened the door to the converted classroom and held in a gasp as she saw Snape standing over a cauldron, his back to her. "I'm sorry, Professor --"

"What do you want?" he snarled, turning to her, his face showing surprise for an instant before the snarl resurfaced. "Yes?"

"Are you brewing mortalis fallax?"

"How disappointing that it took you a week to figure that out."

She ignored his snipe and asked, "But what are you doing with it? The ingredients don't make any sense at all."

"You tell me, Professor."

Hermione met Snape's gaze squarely, saw the implicit challenge, and the old unquenching desire to prove herself, to him especially, resurfaced.

Snape crossed his arms over his chest and watched with subdued interest as she studied the ingredients spread over one table, becoming amused when she examined the Belladonna and began muttering under her breath. She moved to the other table, and whirled to face him.

"You're trying to beat the killing curse, aren't you?"

He nodded, turning back to his cauldron. "Since this was the subject of your seventh year project, you should remember what mortalis fallax does."

"It causes the body to momentarily shut down, to die in essence. And if the body is dead when avada kedavra hits it, then nothing happens." 

"Theoretically, yes," Snape answered. "Continue."

"But you'd have to adapt it so that the potion lies inert until the curse triggers it."

"Yes."

"And you would have to increase its potency so that one dose would be effective against multiple attacks, while reverting back to inert until the next such attack."

"Yes."

"So judging by what I see here, you're using Belladonna and root of asphodel to make it inert, which could work, and dragon's blood for the potency."

"Very good, Professor. The Belladonna and root of asphodel do indeed work, better than any other combination I have found."

She stared at the jar of Belladonna and shook her head. "But the Belladonna might interfere with the longevity of the potion, since it breaks down so rapidly. It will probably need an extender."

"Yes, I have had that problem."

"How exactly do you test the potion?"

"Why don't you test it for yourself?" Snape walked to another door in the far corner of the room, and threw it open. When she didn't follow immediately, he added, "Or are you unable to perform the killing curse?"

Scowling, Hermione retorted, "You were around the last time I used it, remember? That nice little moonlight-filled romp through a werewolf infested forest?"

She strode purposefully to the open door, only breaking from his stare when she reached the room. It was another unused classroom, and she was surprised to see a wire cage holding several rats resting on one long table. 

"But how do you know the potion will be as effective on humans--"

"Because unlike Muggle medicine, potions function exactly the same on all creatures, due to their magical properties. The only adjustment is to change the dosage based on body mass." 

He walked to the table and opened the cage, removing one squirming rat. He pulled a flask from inside his robe and deftly uncapped it, poured a drop of liquid down the rat's throat, and returned the flask to his pocket. He then placed the rat in one of two empty cages on the far end of the table and motioned to her. 

"Test it for yourself."

She nodded, glad she had left her wand in her teaching robes as she fished it out. She approached the solitary rat hesitantly, her wand lowered. She murmured the words and green light flashed out of the tip of her wand, hitting the rat and throwing it against the cage. She bent to examine the rat, who was blinking up at her, looking a bit disoriented. 

"Incredible!"

"Try it again."

She complied, and again examined the rat. This time, he lay slumped in the corner of the cage, chest barely moving. Hermione looked at Snape, a question forming in her mind, but he spoke before she could ask anything.

"It would not survive a third attack. I was able to use the dragon's blood to extend the life of the potion from one attack to two, but have made very little headway since."

"So what happens to the rat?"

"The rat will slowly recover for eight to ten days until it is perfectly healthy. It seems even though the potion prevents death, the body is heavily drained. Each additional attack, of course, compounds the damage done."

He removed the quivering rat and placed it alone in the other cage, which had food and water, where it could recover. Snape turned back to Hermione, who was lost in thought. 

_A very strange turn of events for the evening_, he told himself as he regarded her. _Perhaps Granger could be useful. Perhaps. But if she turns back into that fucking know-it-all --_

Suddenly, her very presence irritated him beyond reason, and he scowled. 

"I have exams to grade. Is there anything else?"

Hermione glanced at him sharply, taken aback by the sudden hostility in his voice, and as she moved to leave, her voice quavered, "No, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you still had exams."

"Of course you wouldn't. No doubt yours were graded that day," he sneered, and he felt a momentary sense of glee when her cheeks reddened. 

Hermione ignored the fact that her eyes were beginning to tear up, and forced her voice to be strong as she met his glare. 

"Thank you for showing me your potion, Professor Snape. If you will excuse me." 

She turned and left the room without looking back. She kept from running by telling herself it would be improper for the DADA teacher to be seen fleeing the dungeons. All the while, she managed not to cry. She did not go directly to her room, but instead decided to walk around the castle while thinking, trying to make sense of everything that had happened.

Everything had been going so well, or so Hermione had thought. Snape was being unusually civil, they were discussing the potion and exchanging ideas, until he had snapped at her, with no apparent provocation. She came to the conclusion that he had been the same with her as a student, how for days, or even weeks, Snape would ignore her in class, but the peace would always end, and he would resume torturing her at every possible moment. Sometimes it was through Neville's mistakes, and sometimes for being a know-it-all, but most common was when it was just for being a friend of Harry Potter.

Having been wrapped up in her thoughts, she had walked without direction, until she realized she was approaching the Fat Lady. Her heart wrenched and she felt sick as she suddenly missed Harry and Ron. She ran back to her room, tears streaming down her face, but luckily, no students were out of bed to see.

~ ~ ~

Severus sat at his desk, scowling at the few remaining seventh year exams. He yawned and decided to finish them in the morning, sweeping them into a desk drawer. He decided it was time for some sleep, something he usually considered a luxury. He had stopped sleeping regularly roughly four years ago, and he felt privileged if he slept more than three hours in a night. Albus heavily protested this habit, though he could not force Severus to take a sleeping draft. 

He went to his quarters, through another usually concealed door in his office, and pulled off his robes, hanging them neatly by the door. The sitting room large and dark, full of tall mahogany bookshelves filled with books of every conceivable topic. A dark leather couch and two armchairs stood opposite each other, on top of an ornate rug, before a great fireplace. With a flick of his wrist, a fire leapt up and soft light filtered through the room.

He stopped at one set of bookcases, studied them intently, and then withdrew three different volumes. He carried them to a table and sat down in an armchair. He thumbed through the first book, then quickly changed to the next. As the fire warmed the room, he began to feel drowsy and his thoughts drifted to Granger.

Severus had been impressed earlier by her knowledge, which was not the first time Granger had had that effect on him. But it was the first time she had proved herself an equal to him, when she had figured out in a few weeks what it had taken him five years of trial and error to produce. The combination of the two had caused him to unceremoniously throw her out of his workroom. 

He saw the tears beginning to form in her eyes, heard the nearly inaudible quiver in her voice as she sincerely thanked him, and he knew that she was hurt. That he had hurt her. And for once, Severus felt a bit sad at having caused Hermione pain.

___  
A/N: 

So we finally get some real interaction w/ our hero/heroine, so LMK what you think!!! Thanks so much for the encouraging reviews!

Also, probably 2-3 weeks on Ch. 11 ... Have 2 papers and 2 finals in 2 weeks, then nothing for all summer!!! 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Eleven

On a particularly brisk Saturday afternoon in November, Severus allowed himself a brief respite from grading a stack of second-year essays by reading his latest copy of Potions Progress, a weekly advanced potions magazine, which had arrived today by owl post. He was just beginning a particularly enthralling essay on the use of asphodel and tigers claw for increasing potion absorbancy when someone rapped on his door. He scowled deeply as he commanded the visitor to enter. His frown softened when he saw the friendly smile of Albus Dumbledore. 

"Good afternoon, Severus."

"What can I do for you, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore glanced around the office. He noted that all of the shelves in the room were now completely covered with either thick volumes or bizarre objects floating in glass jars. A large fire roared to the right of an enormous desk where Severus sat, observing Dumbledore in silence. Two hard straight chairs sat before the desk; Dumbledore transfigured one into a large, stuffed armchair and sat.

"How are you doing, Severus?"

"I was enjoying my article until you interrupted. Did you need something?"

Dumbledore just smiled. In the twenty-nine years he had known the Potions Master, Severus had never tolerated small talk. Which was too bad, since there was nothing Dumbledore enjoyed more than an energetic talk on topics of utter nonsense. Except perhaps the company of a good cat. 

"I was hoping you could update me on your progress."

"The mortalis fallax?" Dumbledore nodded, his brilliant eyes watching Snape expectantly over his half-moon glasses. Snape's scowl returned as he answered, "There has been little progress since last time we discussed it."

"I see. Has Hermione been assisting you?"

"Miss Granger wished to see the potion, nothing more."

"Are you sure, Severus? I should think Professor Granger would enjoy a challenge such as this. It would be a shame to miss that opportunity. She will only be here until summer," Dumbledore added with a sly, unnoticed smile.

"How disappointing, surely. You know how I feel about working with other people, Albus."

"Yes, I do. But I also know that Hermione was one of the brightest minds Hogwarts ever saw. And if I'm not mistaken, she was among the top of her class at Potions."

"Second to Malfoy," Snape spat. 

"Poor Draco. I often thought he would make the right decision."

"He's a Malfoy. What did you expect besides a drive for fame and fortune?"

"I seem to remember you being quite upset when he joined after graduation," Dumbledore prodded, and Snape scowled heavily, his eyes growing dark.

"I have no doubt that my own pledge of loyalty to Voldemort eased his conscience," he retorted bitterly. "Every year, I berate myself. My own House pledging loyalty to the Dark Lord. Of course, I was the fitting example for them."

"Severus," the old wizard said gently, reaching across the desk and grasping Severus' hand. "No one can say whether those children would have left us if you had never returned to Voldemort. It was a necessary risk, and one I would take again. You have provided an invaluable service. One which I can never repay, given the personal sacrifices you have made."

"Nothing you wouldn't have done yourself."

"Yes, anyone of us," he acknowledged. "But it was you who did it."

Severus looked up into the twinkling blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore, and he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He rolled up his left sleeve and stared at the faint mark there. 

"He's taken to calling me two or three times a day," he murmured. "He always enjoyed his petty torments."

"I know I have already asked more than your share, Severus."

Severus sighed heavily then said, "Very well. I will accept Granger's help on the potion. I don't know why I ever argue with you. You always get your way in the end."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and he smiled broadly under the large white beard.

"Patience, dear friend, is all it takes." The older wizard's demeanor turned serious, and he began, "Severus, there is another matter we must discuss."

"How surprising," Severus murmured, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"I knew that Voldemort would be making an attempt on your life before I sent you after Vasily."

"What? What do you mean you knew?" Snape snarled as he rose from his chair. He began pacing irritably before the fireplace.

"There is another spy among the Death Eaters. A highly-placed one at that. Voldemort discovered your duplicity the week before Vasily went missing; however, he planned to keep you around for unknown reasons."

"For the amusement of torturing me, no doubt."

"Yes. As soon as I learned that you were in danger, I made arrangements with the ministry for your protection."

Severus whirled about to face the Headmaster, his robes coming dangerously close to the flames, and his eyes glittered.

"Granger?" When Dumbledore nodded, Severus roared, "You brought bloody Hermione Granger here to protect me? Why the hell did you not tell me?"

"Severus," Dumbledore soothed, "if you would take a moment to think things through, you would come to the inevitable conclusion."

Snape slumped in his chair, head in hands.

"If I had cut off contact with Voldemort, he would have grown suspicious and possibly found your spy. Likewise, if I knew about Voldemort's intentions, I would undoubtedly reveal them while on Veritaserum, and, again, endanger the spy."

"Correct. I place much faith in you, Severus and I know you are capable of taking care of yourself. Judging by Hermione's account of events in Russia, you were doing just fine on your own."

"But Granger knew, didn't she? You told her from the beginning," he spat, and Dumbledore nodded. "Of all people, Albus. Why her?"

"The mortalis fallax potion could turn the tide in this war. We need it, Severus," Dumbledore said as he stood to leave."Did you realize that the Potions Department at Berkeley only accepts fifty new students a year? Only two other Hogwarts students were ever accepted: Winnifred Winston, a lovely witch many years before you; and you, of course."

Dumbledore turned at the door and studied the younger man over his half-moon glasses. "People make rash decisions while age eighteen. Perhaps some should be looked upon with leniency."

Severus stared at the closed door long after the Headmaster left. 

~ ~ ~

Hermione sat in a corner of the library, so absorbed in a new Arithmancy journal that she did not hear the footsteps behind her chair. 

She yelped as a pair of arms rounded her shoulders and hands covered her eyes. A soft, deep voice whispered in her ear, "You've lost your touch. I'm disappointed."

She wiggled free from the grasp and wheeled around to see the handsome, grinning face of Harry Potter. 

"Harry!" she squealed as she jumped to his embrace. She clung to him fiercely, only letting go when he complained about the lack of oxygen. "What are you doing here? Where have you been? It's been three months since I heard from you!"

He laughed, his hand moving to his shock of black hair that still refused to stay put, and joked, "Sorry, Mum, I'll try to write more!"

"For Merlin's sake, Harry! I've been worried sick about you! No one hears from you, no one knows what's going on."

"C'mon, 'Mione, you know I can't talk about it," he implored, his green eyes boring into her own. "You know you'd be the first one to hear all the details. Besides, it's not quite the same, working without you."

She gave a half-hearted smile. "Good."

"So what time's dinner around here? I'm starved!" he exclaimed, rubbing his belly for good measure. "And I've been dreaming about some Hogwarts food for the last few weeks!"

She checked her watch, surprised to see that she had spent the last two hours in the library without realizing it. _Not that Harry would be surprised._

"In about fifteen minutes, actually. Did you already stop by and see Albus?"

"Are you joking? He knew I was coming to visit before I did. In fact, I'm sure he's the one who arranged it all. So show me your classroom before we go eat."

They left the library and walked arm-in-arm down the corridor. Harry smiled politely at the students who stared as they passed, and a few were even bold enough to shake his hand.

"Did you come from London?" Hermione asked when they managed to break away from an overly friendly second year Hufflepuff.

"Yeah, I did. Saw Ron for about an hour before I came here. He says hello and he misses you. I think he's lonely."

"I told him he should move back to the Burrow! It's not as if he can't aparate to work everyday. Besides, his mum would love it."

"But then, how would he ever get a girlfriend if he still lived at home?"

"Oh, please!" Hermione exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "Do you know how many dates he had last year? Four. He couldn't even get a second date with three of them!"

Harry shook his head, and sighed. "You know, he never really understood women while we were here, and he still doesn't get it now."

When they reached Hermione's classroom, she gave him the tour, which lasted only a few minutes; then they headed down to dinner. They joined the mass of students heading towards the Great Hall. As they neared it, Harry slowed down.

"Great. It's the welcoming committee," he muttered to Hermione.

She followed his gaze, and, towering above the students, she saw Snape. He was standing with crossed arms, glowering at them, one foot tapping the floor impatiently.

"Exactly what I wanted right before I eat. A nice conversation with Snape. He's more of a prick now than when we were students."

"Language!" Harry chided her with a grin. "There are students present."

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Mr. Potter," Snape sneered as they reached him. 

"Professor Snape," Harry answered evenly.

"To what honor do we owe this visit? Surely The Boy Who Lived has better things to do, like recklessly endangering the entire magic community."

To Harry's credit and Hermione's surprise, Harry didn't lose his temper. Neither did he conceal his irritation, as he retorted, "Just here to see my old friend. Something you wouldn't know much about, I'm afraid."

"What a pity you two had to be separated," Snape growled, watching in disgust as Harry put his arm around Hermione protectively. "No doubt she was the brains of the group."

A crowd of students was gathering nearby, curious to see Harry and the brewing confrontation, but Hermione shooed them into the Great Hall so that three adults were alone. 

"Snape, what the hell is your problem? No matter how many times I save us all from Voldemort, it's never enough! It's almost as if you want him to win!"

"Every time you _save us_ from Voldemort, there are always innocent victims. Need I remind you? Cedric Diggory, your mother Lily --"

Harry could no longer control his anger, and he lunged for the other man, knocking Snape to the ground and beginning to wail on him. Hermione leapt after him, and grabbing Harry by his robes, she tried to pull him off of Snape. After a moment of struggle, Harry relented and stood, pleased to see that Snape's bottom lip was split open and he had the beginnings of a black eye.

"Harry, go," Hermione instructed, pushing him towards the Great Hall. Reluctantly, he complied. She turned back towards Snape, who was still sprawled on the floor. Her tone became angry as she asked, "Are you happy? Did you accomplish what you wanted?"

Snape ignored her as he gathered himself and stood. He started towards the doors, but she held up a hand to stop him. 

"You can't go in there looking like that. You need to see Madam Pomfrey."

"I have survived much worse."

"Fine, I'll do it myself."

Before Snape could stop her, Hermione moved to him. She gently brushed her hand across his bruising left eye, murmuring an incantation. She wiped the small trickle of blood from his bottom lip and repeated the process. Finished, she looked up and caught his gaze. He stared at her with intensity, but she coudln't read his eyes. Realizing she was done, he scowled and pushed her away roughly. 

"No need to thank me," she muttered as he stalked towards the doors.

"I had no intention," he tossed back over his shoulder.

It was Hermione's turn to scowl as she followed him into the Great Hall.

~ ~ ~

At a few minutes before eight, Severus banged open the door to the classroom, startling the second year Ravenclaw who had been sitting in her chair and waiting. 

"Miss Wang, you will be slicing leeches for detention." 

He motioned to a table across the room and an enormous bowl of squirming leeches on it. The girl's eyes widened, but she went to the table without a word. Snape watched her for a moment, then stalked to his office and slammed the door behind him. He lit a fire in the hearth and began to pace in front it, his thoughts jumbled.

Severus had been waiting for Granger outside the Great Hall, in order to extend an opportunity to assist on the potion, but when he saw Potter --

_Fucking Potter!_

His blood still boiled every time he saw the prat, for he was Lily and James's son. 

Lily, beautiful, smart Lily. They had been friends, for a while. Until James.

James Potter, his nemesis. At least, that's how it felt when they were still students. He had never deserved Lily, had never truly appreciated her. Always spending his spare time with the rest of the so-called Marauders. He hated them as well.

And each time Severus saw Harry, it was like seeing Lily's ghost, even now, though he had grown into a man. But Harry was still James's son, in every reckless thing he had ever done, as well as his disregard for his own safety. 

He had cried the night Voldemort murdered Lily. The following morning, he had returned to Hogwarts and thrown himself upon Dumbledore's mercy. To his surprise, Dumbledore did not throw him in Azkaban, but had instead listened calmly and without interruption. Even more surprising, Dumbledore had forgiven him..

_People make rash decisions while age eighteen. Perhaps some should be looked upon with leniency._

Severus stopped pacing and sank into one of the chairs in front of the desk as Dumbledore's words came back to him. He had chosen to be marked by Voldemort, had created potions for purposes which he did not question, had even used the Unforgivables, and Dumbledore had still forgiven him.

His chest tightened and Severus sobbed as the full implication of Dumbledore's words hit him. All these years, he had deluded himself into thinking he was doing Dumbledore a favor by spying on Voldemort, when all along, Severus had never deserved forgiveness. But even still, Dumbledore had forgiven him and even employed him.

Suddenly, he needed to talk to Granger. He wiped his face as he stood, then he strode to the door and threw it open. He was almost to the classroom door when a timid voice interrupted him.

"Sir?"

"Your detention is finished, Miss Wang. Return to your common room immediately," he said as he paused momentarily, then he continued out the door. 

Severus immediately went up to her office, but it was empty. Next he tried the library, but Madam Pince had not seen her. He went to her quarters, but the witch in the portrait was absent. Cursing, he failed to remember the wards she had used, even though he knew she had most likely changed them. 

He finally found Hermione at the top of the Astronomy tower, sitting and staring up into space. She did not hear him approach.

"Professor Granger," he called softly. 

She jumped, a look of surprise, then distrust crossing her face before she answered, "Professor Snape."

"Might I join you?"

Her look of distrust deepened as she studied him. He attempted to maintain a neutral expression.

"If you can be civil."

He sat down near her and surveyed the scenery. The half-moon illuminated the grounds which were covered with a fresh layer of snow. His breath turned into small puffs as he gathered his thoughts. Finally, he spoke.

"When I was eighteen, I was accepted to Berkeley to study potions. I had a full scholarship."

She said nothing, and he looked for her reaction. Her face was guarded as she watched him, and he turned away.

"Rather than going to Berkeley, I pledged allegiance to Voldemort." A few moments passed, and they were silent. Finally he asked, "Why didn't you tell me you were accepted?"

"Because it was my choice," she answered defensively. "And because you would have been furious."

He laughed softly. "You were right, on both counts. I suppose I still wish you had gone, for my own vicariousness." Again she was quiet. His voice became soft as he murmured, "How can I hold this against you when I've been forgiven for much worse?" Severus turned to face her and he held her gaze, but he was unable to read her expression.

Hermione felt as if she'd just been hit with stupefy. Here was Severus Snape making something of an apology, as well as sharing his dark past with her. She didn't know what to say, didn't even know where to start. She looked into his eyes and saw something there, a sadness, she had never seen before. The whole time, he watched her, waited for some kind of response. 

Reaching over, she grasped his hand, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from crying again. They both looked away, back to the stars, and they sat together, hands resting on the ground between them.

Finally, Severus pulled away and rose. He coughed to clear his voice, then said, his usual sneer creeping back in, "Professor Granger, I would appreciate your potions expertise, should you be able to spare the time."

Blinking, she quickly answered, "Uh, yes, of course, Professor."

"Very well. If you could stop by tomorrow after lunch."

With that, he turned on his heel, his robes whipping around behind him, and left. Hermione stared after him, confusion evident on her face, and she tried vainly to make sense of all that just happened. 

___  
A/N:

I hate to beg, but please, Please, PLEASE review! I spent a lot of time on this chapter, and I need feedback. Honest feedback, even if you don't like it. Especially if you don't like it, so I can fix what's wrong. 

On a side note, school is done -- for a few months at least -- so I have loads more time to write. I'm starting to transcribe another story I had written previously, before FanFaction.net got rid of the NC-17 rating, so once it's up, take a look at that one too! It's HG/SS of course! :D


	12. Chapter Twelve

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Twelve

"Lumos," Severus muttered as he struggled to sit up in bed. Judging by the twisted sheets, he had tossed and turned most of the night. He reached for the watch sitting on the night stand and scowled; it was nearly eleven-thirty in the morning. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept more than seven hours without aid of a sleeping potion. He threw his legs over the side of the bed, his feet searching for his slippers. He pulled on his robe over his black silk boxers and staggered toward the bathroom. His body seemed unusually stiff this morning.

After settling the subject of a full bladder, Severus disrobed and stood before the full-length mirror. He stared critically at his reflection. He was too thin, too pale. His torso and arms were covered with scars, from crucio and beatings. His gaze traveled further up to the limp, shiny hair and the dark circles under his eyes. He looked old. Older than he should, at forty-two. 

Unable to take more of his own image, he turned on the shower and stepped in once steam began to rise. He closed his eyes as the hot water streamed over him. A few minutes later, he reached for a bar of soap and began to lather himself. The water slowly awakened him, and his brain began to function on a normal level. Suddenly, he was hit with the realization of what he had done last night, in his moment of weakness. Surely Dumbledore had been expecting that. And Severus had played right into his hands. 

He had apologized to Granger, had even told her about choosing Voldemort over going to Berkeley. She had responded not by growing angry, but instead she tried to comfort him. And then Severus had retreated, away from her presence and contact and had reverted back to his usual self, though not quite as cruel. 

He leaned back against the cool stone and weighed his options. He could pretend it didn't happened. That he had simply invited her to work on the potion, nothing more. To remind Granger that he was Severus Snape and he cared for no one. But he knew that was no longer true. 

He had been acutely aware of her yesterday as she stood before him, healing the wounds Potter had inflicted. She smelled clean, with a hint of lavender. Her fingers were soft and warm as they brushed his skin, her breath soft as she murmured her spells. Severus had been captivated by her very presence, and he found himself staring at her unabatedly. 

Despite all his efforts, Hermione Granger was still trying to protect him. She had saved him from the Death Eaters. And even now, she was healing his wounds from her best friend and partner, even though Severus had deserved it. It occurred to him that perhaps she protected him still out of loyalty to Albus. It would not be surprising, since Dumbledore always got what he wanted. 

_Patience my ass!_

He turned the water off and reached out his hand for the towel that floated towards him.

The empathy that she had displayed on the Astronomy Tower was more than duty, however. She had remained quiet to let him talk, and she had taken his hand just when he had needed that little bit of human contact. And he had seen the disappointment in her eyes when he pulled away and stood, and the hurt when his habitual sneer returned. She had seen too much, and his automatic response was to push her away. 

_Probably the wise thing_, he concluded as he finished toweling off and went back to his bedroom for clothing. As he pulled out one of his standard black suits, he decided the best course of action was outright denial of the entire incident. He would simply act as if nothing had happened and continue to be his normal, snarky self. He finally finished buttoning, then found his shoes and threw on his robes. He felt self-assured as he went up to lunch. 

~ ~ ~

Hermione leisurely browsed the rows of bookshelves in Flourish & Blotts in Diagon Alley. She was supposed to meet Ron for lunch at noon, but she still had some time to kill before that. She had already stopped by the Apothecary to resupply her potions ingredients. Now she wanted to buy a few books, since she hadn't in several months. 

She was trying to decide between a new arithmancy book, _The Numbers Never Lie_, and _Dark Magic Through the Ages_, a thick history book, when something in the Potions section caught her eye and she stopped. It was _Extending the Life of Your Potions_, by Moyra Faldco. She pulled the volume out and looked at it with interest. She had done some work on a potions extender for Harry just last spring, and she was curious to see other theories as well. Perhaps it could be useful with the mortalis fallax potion as well.

She eventually decided to buy all three, and left for The Leaky Cauldron. She was still a few minutes early, but Ron had never been punctual. She found a table near the door and began reading the potions book. She had only read a few pages before Ron walked in.

"Don't tell me you're reading!" he teased as Hermione stood to hug him. 

"Do you even know how to read, Weasley?"

"So how are you?" he asked as he slipped into the seat opposite her. "Snape still giving you trouble?"

"Gods! I nearly forgot! Harry came to visit last night, right? They got into a fight!"

"Harry and Snape? Gods, I wish I could've been there! Bet it was all Snape's fault."

"Well, he did say Harry was responsible for Lily's death."

Ron's face turned red to match his hair and he growled, "I'll hit him myself next time!"

"Calm down. Harry got him good. In fact, I don't think Snape hit Harry even once," she said. "And somehow in all of this, I got roped into helping Snape with some potion."

"Don't do it, 'Mione. He's still a greasy git and can't be trusted."

"Actually I think Albus is behind all of this, and if that's the case, I won't have much choice but to help."

"Still wish I could've seen that," Ron muttered, grinning. "Harry beating the hell out of that bastard."

Hermione shook her head. "What is it with men and beating on each other?"

A young wizard came over to take their orders, and after he had left, Hermione asked, "How is your mum?"

"Still on me about getting married and giving her grandchildren, of course," he answered with a laugh. "Oh, she did instruct me to remind you that you are expected at the Burrow for Christmas. Harry too if he can get away." 

"Of course, I'll be there." She paused, then asked, "Speaking of Harry getting away, he slipped out pretty quick after dinner last night. Did he tell you anything about what he's doing?"

"Are you kidding? I gave up on asking him. Wouldn't even say where he was staying, except to tell me how to get ahold of him in an extreme emergency."

"How? He didn't tell me," she said with extreme irritation.

"I've got it all written down back at the flat, but it's something like owl a message addressed to some woman at the post office in Vienna? Or maybe Hamburg, I don't know, one of them, and then it will be picked up and delivered."

"Why all the secrecy?" Hermione mused. "Something weird is going on."

Ron shrugged. "I dunno, but at the Ministry, they keep saying he's off on assignment in Germany, something about rogue vampires

"Harry fighting vampires? Right. See what you can dig up at the Ministry and I'll work on Dumbledore. I'm sure he's up to his neck in all of this."

"Yeah, I'll talk to Dad and see if he knows anything; but Fudge doesn't tell him much, even though he's Deputy Minister." 

Their food arrived, and Ron tore into his like he hadn' t eaten in weeks. Hermione watched with amusement and even laughed when he looked at her with a mouthful of food and asked, "What's so funny?"

"You seriously need to clean up your table manners if you ever expect to get and keep a girlfriend."

"Hey, what about that witch at Hogwarts? Didn't you tell me there was a teacher only a few years older than you?"

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I am not setting you up with my co-workers, Ron."

"It's not a set-up," he argued between bites. "I just want you to casually introduce us."

"No."

"Please?"

"Don't beg, it's so pathetic." 

"What a friend you are," he grumbled. "I'd hook you up with any of my acquaintances."

"Thanks, but I don't like to babysit when I go out," she retorted. "Besides, I'm perfectly happy being single. I don't have the time for a relationship."

"You mean, you read too much to have time for a relationship."

"No," she responded angrily. "I'm working with Snape on a really important potion, and when I'm not actively doing experiments with it, I'll probably be in the library researching for it."

"See? This is what happens when me or Harry isn't around -- you become a workaholic!"

"So? It keeps me busy."

"Remember what happened two years ago when Harry and I went to the States to help track down that dark witch? Remember?" he asked, the pitch of his voice going higher. 

"Yes," she mumbled.

"Remember how you didn't sleep at home for two weeks, if at all? How you nearly got killed by that Death Eater, what's his name, Edwin, Edgar--"

"Edward Hodgkiss."

"Yeah, him! Because you didn't wait for us like you were supposed to. Because you wanted to get a little more done while Harry and me were away." He paused, staring at her with intensity, then he continued, "I'm worried about you; you don't look good. You need to get out of Hogwarts, get back to being an auror. It sure isn't the same without you."

"You're right," she said after a moment. "I know you're right. Teaching is a lot harder than I ever thought. But I can't leave, not now, while Albus still needs me."

Ron sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that. Then at least promise me you won't go traipsing abroad again without letting me know."

"I promise."

They continued to eat in silence, until Ron began talking about quidditch. Hermione gave him the rundown of the Hogwarts teams this year. So far Ravenclaw was dominating, thanks to an awesome line-up of chasers and a talented seeker, but Slytherin was close behind. 

"How about Gryffindor? How're they doing?" Ron asked.

"Dead last, actually. Minerva says it's the worst team we've had since she's been Head of House."

"Ouch!"

"You should come see Ravenclaw and Slytherin play in February. It should be an incredible game."

"And you could introduce me to -- what was her name again?" he asked with an innocent grin.

"No," Hermione answered as she looked at her watch. "I need to get back soon."

"Yeah, I need to drop by and finish up some paperwork from the bitch I pulled in last week. Look at this," he said, pulling up his right sleeve to show a garish green mark on his forearm. 

"What is that?"

"I got hit by a reflected curse, not sure what. The mediwitches say it didn't actually do anything to me, but that thing might never go away!" When Hermione started laughing, he became defensive. "It's not funny! I have a huge green scar on my arm!"

"I think your dating chances have improved," she said as she stood and grabbed her things, still laughing. "Chicks dig scars, remember? Maybe you could get a tattoo and do something with it."

"Yeah, real funny," Ron muttered. He stood up and hugged Hermione for a moment. "Any time you need to get out for a weekend, I'm here."

"Thanks Ron. You take care of yourself. And tell your mum I said hello," she said as she headed for the door to Diagon Alley.

"Of course. Don't forget to owl me about the quidditch match. And don't work too hard either!" he called after her.

She apparated to the outskirts of Hogsmeade and started walking back to Hogwarts. She arrived shortly after and headed straight for the dungeons. Snape had said to come by after lunch, and it was nearly two. She went first to his laboratory rather than his office. Hermione paused outside the door and took a deep breath. She didn't know what to expect from Snape today but she wanted to be calm regardless of his temperament.

She knocked briskly then opened the door before any response. Snape was sitting in a brown leather armchair along the far wall next to a roaring fire. He had been reading something, but he closed the book and looked up sharply at her entrance. 

"Professor," he said, his voice low and silky. "I see you took a late lunch."

"Sorry, I was in London," she replied, setting her books down on a free table. "I came straight back."

"Very well. I suppose the most prudent thing would be for you to read my notes thus far." 

Snape stood and walked to a desk in a corner. Hermione followed him and stood patiently. He turned to a set of bookshelves behind the desk and proceeded to pull out nine volumes, each approximately a half inch thick. He set them on the desk.

"This is everything from the first time I brewed the potion five years ago."

Hermione picked up the first one and started towards the fire. There was only one armchair, but she didn't want to risk Snape's ire by taking his seat, so she fished around in her pockets until she found a loose button, which she transfigured into a matching armchair. She did not see the tiny smile that touched Snape's lips for an instant. As she began reading, he moved to the gently simmering potion. Engrossed in his meticulous notes, she did not notice him examining the books she had bought in London.

"_Extending the Life of Your Potions_?" Snape asked with a slight sneer. 

"What? Oh, that. I was interested in reading on extenders. I played around with my own and wanted to compare notes." She watched him with curiosity as he looked at the book. "You can read it if you'd like."

Snape returned to the empty armchair with the book. The room was silent as they both read. After an hour, Hermione was on third volume, and Snape was still reading the book on extenders.

"That is strange," he murmured.

"What?" Hermione asked, looking up from the notes.

"This extender uses chimera blood."

"Chimera blood? Let me see, " she said, leaning forward. Snape frowned but handed her the book. "What the --? This is the potion I made for Harry!" His frown deepened, so she continued, "I was having problems keeping it from hardening whenever I would add it to the target potion, so I lowered the amount of dragon scales and added chimera blood."

Snape continued to stare at her, until he finally said, "I have seen this potion before."

"What are you talking about?"

"It was sent to me, early this summer, while I was still working for Voldemort." 

Hermione couldn't believe it. "What? How is that possible? This extender never existed until I made it!"

"I do not doubt you. Your extender was not compatible with all potions, and I received a request for assistance in adapting it to polyjuice potion."

"You were requested? By a Death Eater?" When he nodded, Hermione nearly begged, "Who? Who sent it?"

"Draco Malfoy."

___  
A/N: 

Thanks for all the feedback from ch. 11! I really appreciate it. Sorry to leave you with another cliffhanger -- ok, so I'm not really! -- but it had to be done. Again, please review with thoughts....

Also thanks to everyone who checked out my other fanfic, Subterranean Homesick Potions Master, which will also be updated in the next few days. I don't really have to write anything, just tone it down some and do a little editing. 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Thirteen

Hermione stared at Severus with an open mouth. Draco Malfoy sent her potion to Snape? 

"Why would Draco Malfoy have my potion?" she asked. "And why would he send it to you?"

"I _am_ the Potions Master, in case you have forgotten," he growled. "Malfoy has always asked my expertise on potions questions."

"How could he have gotten it to begin with?" She stood and began pacing. "I made that extender especially for Harry!"

Severus arched an eyebrow as he studied her. "You make a potion for Potter and a few months later, Malfoy has it. It would seem that something befell Potter, or he is in league with Malfoy."

She turned to him, anger in her voice. "How can you even suggest that? Harry would rather die than join Voldemort!"

Severus eyed her coolly, before he responded, "Yes, I suppose you are right." She resumed pacing. "Perhaps there is a spy in the Potions department at the Ministry."

"I didn't tell anyone at the Ministry about this; Harry made me promise. He never said why."

"Didn't you think to ask? Or do you trust the famous Mister Potter more than your own judgment?" he sneered.

"Yes! I would trust Harry Potter with my life!" she answered, a fire burning in her eyes. "If he tells me not to ask, I do not ask. He will tell me when I need to know."

"He will tell you when you need to know? You are breaking Ministry rules by not reporting that potion to Potions Development, but you don't even know why?" Severus scoffed at her. "Who would have imagined? Hermione Granger once again breaks the rules for Harry Potter."

She could take no more. She rounded on him; he was still seated in the armchair by the fire. "And what exactly have you done while he's been out there trying to fight Voldemort?"

Severus rose and faced Hermione, only inches separating them, and he glared with all his might, but she did not back away. 

"What. Have. I. Been. Doing," he repeated, each word its own statement. "While you and the Boy Wonder have been running around with your heads up your arses, I served at the mercy of the Dark Lord, suffering from crucio and innumerable broken bones."

"Which is nothing but penitence for past crimes!" she answered hotly. "Nothing you didn't deserve."

After she said it, Hermione knew she had gone too far. His eyes flared, and in his face she saw rage, like nothing she had ever seen. She flinched and took a half-step back, but when she looked back to his eyes, there was nothing but his usual cold demeanor.

"Perhaps you should keep closer tabs on your friends, Miss Granger. It would seem they are not to be trusted," Severus said finally, his voice icy. He then dismissed her with a wave as he walked over to the potion. "I have work to do."

Hermione picked up the rest of the volumes of notes from the desk and headed for the door. Deciding she didn't want to leave things on such a bad note, she stopped beside him at the cauldron and put her hand on his bicep. He ignored her.

"I was wrong to say that," she said quietly. "I know you put your life in danger every time you went to see him. I'm glad you're on my side, Severus."

With that, she quickly moved to the door, but his voice stopped her.

"As soon as you are finished with my notes, inform me so that I might apprise you of what I have been doing the past month," he called without looking up at her. 

"Of course," she answered, then fled the room.

As she walked back to her quarters, she knew she had to owl Harry. She didn't want to jump to conclusions about Harry being involved with Death Eaters, but she really needed to hear his side of things. There had to be a rational explanation for Draco Malfoy getting that potion. When she reached her room, she placed the potions volumes on the table and suddenly realized she left her other books in the dungeons. She would have to retrieve them later, because she didn't feel up to facing Snape again. 

She found the letter Ron had owled her last night, which included Harry's contact information. She scrawled a quick note, then sealed and addressed the letter to M. Faldco, care of the Hamburg post office. Finished, she went downstairs to owlery and found a volunteer to deliver the message. She returned to her room and tried to focus on Snape's notes and not Harry.

~ ~ ~

After dinner, Severus sat at the desk in his office, his head in his hands. He had not meant to provoke Hermione, not really. Her observation on his service to Dumbledore had cut him to the bone, but he knew she was right. He was also certain that if Harry Potter's name had not been mentioned, he would have said nothing, but the memory of Potter's fist colliding with his face was still too fresh to be ignored. 

He wasn't quite sure what was going on with Malfoy and the potion, but he felt the least he could do for Hermione was to find the letter that Malfoy had sent with the potion; he was sure he had kept it, somewhere. He opened the bottom right drawer of the desk, which had been charmed to hold an entire filing cabinet. He flipped through the labeled files until he found one marked "Personal Correspondence." He withdrew it and laid it open on the desk. He thumbed through various letters, but Draco's letter was absent. He returned the file and found another, this one labeled simply "Potions." He found Malfoy's letter on top of the pile and pulled it out, then returned the file to the drawer.

Standing, Severus picked up the letter and the books that Hermione had left in the dungeons and left his office. He started upstairs, not sure where to look for her first, but as he reached the second floor, a voice stopped him.

"Severus," Albus Dumbledore called from another corridor. 

"Headmaster."

"You seem to be in a hurry."

"Albus, you certainly are a master of the obvious."

"Am I correct in guessing you are looking for Professor Granger?" Albus asked with a twinkle. 

"I have never understood why you ask questions when you already know the answer," Severus answered curtly, not for the first time irritated with the old man's seeming ability to read minds.

"I think you will find her in the library." Severus nodded in appreciation, then the old wizard added, "I hope it is nothing too serious."

"Of course not," he replied, not sure whether he was telling the Headmaster a lie. "If you will excuse me."

Severus continued to the library, stopping only to threaten Peeves, who had been chasing a pair of first years. He reached the library and found Hermione in the back corner with his journals. He paused and watched her as she read. 

She absently brushed back a lock of bushy, brown hair and tucked it behind her ear. The nearby candle flickered, casting shadows across her face. He felt as if he were seeing her for the first time. Since she had returned to Hogwarts, he had never thought of her as anything other than his old student, even though she was now a woman, a beautiful one at that. 

Hermione started when she saw him standing there, observing her. 

"I did not want to interrupt you," Severus murmured. "You left your books."

"Yes, thank you," she said as she took the books Snape held out.

"I also found Malfoy's letter."

She took the letter and read it quickly. "This is definitely my potion," she said with a sigh. "I owled Harry this afternoon, so hopefully he can shed some light on this."

"Indeed."

"Had you thought about using the extender with the mortalis fallax potion?" Hermione queried.

"I had," he answered as he sat down across from her. "However, many adjustments would have to be made in order to keep the potion viable."

"I suppose I could work with it, see what I can do. I am on the last notebook." She added with a slight smile, "I must say, I am impressed with the depth of your notes."

"It would be foolish to not be so detailed, for anything can affect a potion, as you well know."

"Of course."

They sat for a moment, regarding one another, until Severus stood abruptly. 

"I must check on the potion. It should be ready to test tomorrow afternoon, after classes. I would appreciate your presence."

He turned on his heel and stalked out of the library before Hermione could respond. She shook her head, still unable to comprehend the wizard's strange behavior towards her.

~ ~ ~

That night, after the Hogwarts owl had delivered the message to Hamburg, a hooded figure made his way to the small post office through the torrents of snow. He entered and shook of the snow that had gathered on his cloak and lowered his hood. He approached the counter and the clerk, recognizing him immediately, handed him Hermione's letter. The man did not thank the clerk, but instead opened the letter and scanned it quickly. 

"When did this arrive?" he asked with a scowl. 

"Just a few hours ago, Mr. Malfoy. Is everything alright?"

Draco Malfoy trained his ice blue eyes on the clerk and scowled again. "No. I need paper and a quill, now."

"Of course," the clerk answered and hurried off to procure the items. Malfoy reread the letter, running his hands through his white blonde hair.

_Malfoy has the potion I made for you. He sent it to Snape, and gods know who else. What's going on? I'm getting worried. H_

He knew he had taken a risk sending that potion to Snape, but it had to be done. Now Hermione Granger was getting suspicious, and knowing her, she would be unable to resist getting involved in the matter. It was going to be tricky, but Hermione would believe anything Harry said. 

The clerk returned with the paper and quill and handed them to Malfoy, who began to write, his penmanship matching Harry's nearly illegible scrawl perfectly.

_I know he has it, he lifted it from me when I saw him early summer. Tell you the full story later. Everything is fine, I promise. Tell Ron I'll be at the Burrow for Christmas._

When he was satisfied with the note, he sealed it and addressed it. As he handed it to the clerk, he said, "Make sure this arrives by tomorrow morning." 

"Yes, sir, Mr. Malfoy." 

But Malfoy was already pulling on his hood and opening the door. 

___  
A/N:

To those who keep wondering if this is a romance, yes, eventually. The thing about romance is that it takes time, especially when you're dealing with someones as complex as Sev and Hermione. Can't just throw them together -- well, that's not true since that's what happens in my other fic -- but I promise, it's coming. Eventually.

And thank you, THANK YOU to all of the reviews for Ch. 12. They were all uplifting. You may not realize it, but every review does make me feel better about writing. Please, continue to review, even if you don't like it. 

For those of you waiting on the update for Subterranean Homesick Potions Master, I'm still working on getting the rating down to 'R' and also fixing a few bugs. That should be up by Sunday. Thanks again!!! 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Fourteen

Christmas at Hogwarts was just as wondrous as Hermione had remembered. Hagrid had brought up a monstrous tree and Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had decorated it beautifully. Wreaths and bows covered nearly every free inch of space in the castle, and small choirs of angels floated about the hallways, serenading any who would stop to listen with carols. 

The week before Christmas break began, the students became increasingly restless, knowing freedom from classes was close at hand. Her seventh years were the worst, and she had to deduct at least two hundred points between the four houses from them alone.

Hermione had decided to make the exams for all of her classes two part: a written and a demonstrative. Each student would encounter a series of problems that his or her year had covered during the semester, from creatures to curses.

When her final class was over, and the fifth year Hufflepuffs ran squealing from her classroom, she praised the gods and wondered if she had been so bad as a student. She would have to remember and ask Minerva. She made her way down to the dungeons and to the mortalis fallax potion, as had become her daily ritual. 

Every day, as soon as her last class finished, Hermione would join Severus in his workroom. Even if there was nothing to do on that particular day, she would read up on potions texts from the library or brainstorm for more ideas. Sometimes she was alone, but usually Severus was there as well, reading or preparing ingredients. They had made no significant progress in the month Hermione had been assisting him, but she was hopeful that a breakthrough was nearing. 

Through the time they had worked together, Severus and Hermione had developed an uneasy friendship. She wasn't quite sure it was a friendship, but they were more than colleagues now. His demeanor had become more civil towards her, though that did not stop him from berating her for a simple mistake or question for which she should have known the answer. After the first week, she had learned to simply ignore him when he was in one of his moods, which had lessened with each passing week. Lately, he had even tolerated some gentle teasing from her.

Severus was reading in his customary armchair by the fire when she entered without knocking, and he didn't look up.

"I need a batch of Veritaserum, for my seventh years, for the spring term," Hermione called by way of greeting. 

"And?" He glanced at her sharply over his book and frowned. "You are quite capable of brewing that yourself."

"I know that, but I don't have the necessary ingredients. Since it's for a class, I was hoping you would let me raid your stores."

His frown deepened, but he eventually relented and said, "Very well. Since you are working with me, I suppose you should have access to the storage room."

Setting his book down, he stood and crossed to the open door where she was standing. He walked briskly along the corridor to his classroom, Hermione following behind, and went to the closet in the corner where he kept the majority of the potions supplies. After he unwarded the storage space, he turned back to her.

"Did you catch all that? Or shall I write it down for you?"

She smirked at him. "No, once is sufficient."

"All I ask is that you keep a list of what you use, as I prefer to keep an accurate inventory." He motioned to a set of papers tacked to the inside door that appeared to list every supply in the closet. "The more ... valuable ingredients are locked in my office; you may ask for them if necessary."

"Don't trust me enough to get in there alone, huh?"

"I trust no one that much."

"Not even Albus?" 

"To say Albus is a horrible at potions is a gross understatement. Once when I was suffering from the side effects of visiting Voldemort, he taught my classes. It's a wonder the castle didn't explode." Hermione laughed at the mental image of Dumbledore standing before a cauldron, vainly trying to keep his long beard out of the potion he was attempting to concoct. "I assure you, it was not amusing."

"Of course not," she said with a sly smile. "The great Severus Snape never finds anything amusing."

Severus scowled at her, but it was a half-hearted scowl at best. He observed as she went through the ingredients, absently tucking a stray ringlet of hair behind her ear, carefully selecting the ones she would need for her potion. 

If he were truly being honest with himself, which he loathed to do, he had grown to enjoy her company, but he would certainly never admit it to anyone else. She still had a tendency to be a know-it-all, but now, he didn't mind so much because she really did know what she was talking about. He continued to be impressed with how she had kept current on potions, charms as well, despite the great amount of time she had devoted to being an auror. 

Unlike a large percentage of males, Severus was not captivated by beauty or appearances, although he couldn't deny that he had slept with more than a few women solely because of their beauty. Even fewer, though, was the number of women he had slept with because he respected their minds, a quality he held much higher than beauty. 

As he stood there watching Hermione, he realized that he did respect Hermione for her mind, and she was truly beautiful as well. She glanced up at him and gave a timid smile before returning her attention to the closet. His stomach churned and he thought he was going to be sick. 

"There is something I must do. Lock up when you are finished."

He abruptly left the classroom. He began stalking through the corridors, throwing dark glances at any passing student who dared meet his eyes, all the while his mind seethed over Hermione. He walked without direction for what seemed like an hour, until he found himself outside the open door of Minerva McGonagall's office. He could see her seated at the desk, marking papers; he started to walk away, then hesitated before returning and knocking on the door.

"Yes," came the reply, and again Severus faltered. When no one entered, Minerva glanced up and the hard lines of her face softened into a smile. "Severus. Do come in."

He went into the office and sat down on the edge of a straight chair before the desk. She watched him expectantly, until he stood and said, "You are busy. I shall speak to you at some other time."

He was halfway out the door when Minerva came around the desk and stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face her, and he felt his mask of indifference slip when he saw the concern in her eyes.

"Severus, please. You came here for something," she said, her voice soft. "You only ask me for anything when you truly need it, so please let me help."

He allowed her to pull him back into the office and direct him to one of the armchairs by the roaring fire. She then shut the door and proceeded to conjure a steaming pot of tea and a pair of cups and saucers. 

"Thank you," he murmured as she handed him a cup of tea.

Settling back into the other chair with her own cup, she asked, "How are things, Severus? It has been awhile since you visited."

"You could visit me as well, you know," he groused, not quite meeting her gaze. She sipped her tea in silence, eyes regarding him over the square glasses. He sighed. "I don't know what's happening to me anymore, Minerva. I feel lost, adrift from myself."

He looked up into her eyes, and it felt as if he had physically punched her, his eyes held so much emotion. She had never seen him like this before. She set down her teacup and took his as well, then grasped both of his hands in hers. He didn't pull away from her, as he normally would have; rather he squeezed her hands gently, glad for the physical contact.

"I feel like I'm unraveling. As if everything I ever thought I was now is irrelevant." He paused, but still she said nothing, and he was glad for it. Finally he continued, "I believe it began after my return from Russia."

"You were under a great deal of pressure, with the visits to You-Know-Who. We all knew it, that they were becoming worse. When you came back from Russia, you were a free man. You no longer have to bear that burden, Severus."

"But what if that was the only thing that kept me together, that gave me sense of self?" he asked, his eyes pleading.

"What, being a Death Eater?" Minerva scoffed. "You are better than that."

"But what if I'm not?" He pulled his hands away and stared into the fire. "I spilt my heart to Hermione Granger a month ago. Told her about becoming a Death Eater."

"How did she take it?"

His chest tightened, remembering how she had comforted him. "Not how I expected. She listened, then ... she reached out to me. Minerva, I think --"

He met her eyes, and she prompted him gently, "You think what?" 

For a long moment, he was silent. He didn't think he was capable of saying the words, until he finally uttered, "I think ... I might love her."

Though she was a bit shocked by his admission, years of dealing with stranger situations kept her from showing anything on her poker face. "I see," she replied after a moment, standing and moving to the cabinet behind her desk, where she pulled out a large, almost empty bottle of scotch. "I hope I am not the only one here who could use a drink."

~ ~ ~

Hermione had not seen Severus since he left. He was not at dinner, neither was Minerva for that matter, but she thought nothing of it, for teachers were hardly required to be at meals, unless it was a holiday or some equally important occasion. 

She returned to the workroom afterwards, hoping he would be there. She had uncovered something of interest in an old tome about stabilizing potions, which could possibly allow them to increase the amount of Belladonna in the potion. The Belladonna was the key to triggering the "false death" of the potion, but broke down rapidly; so far the dragon's blood helped to some degree, but not nearly what they needed.

She sat in her armchair and picked up the ancient potions book. She reread the passage several times, then let her mind mull everything over. It seemed to make sense, but she wanted to run it by Severus before she began experimenting with it. She began jotting notes in a journal so that she didn't forget things later.

Nearly an hour later, she laid down the pad and quill and moved to the cauldron where her Veritaserum bubbled a bright blue. Everything appeared to be in order, and she stirred it gently.

Severus returned, banging open the wooden door. She looked up at him quizzically, but she couldn't read his dark stare, a skill she had yet to acquire. 

"I have something to run by you," she said as he started to the mortalis fallax potion, which sat on the table behind her, but he stopped as he passed.

"You're stirring it too much," he chided her as he grasped her wrist. "It will become clumpy and you will be unable to add the Jobberknoll feathers at the correct time."

She turned to face him, but he did not let go of her wrist. He was standing close to her, close enough that she could feel his robes brush against hers. She looked up at him, but again was unable to read his face. She thought she smelled alcohol on his breath, but quickly dismissed the thought as ridiculous. Suddenly, he dropped her arm and whirled around, to the other potion. She frowned slightly as her eyes followed him across the room. 

"Is everything alright?" she queried, but he didn't respond. "I need you to look at this."

She picked up the book from the chair beside the fire and moved to his side. He turned to look at her as she offered the open book. His dark eyes captivated hers and held them for a moment until he broke his gaze to look at the book in her hand. Her stomach flipped, and she looked away.

"What is it?" Severus asked, his voice rough as he pushed the book back at her.

"Did you even read it? It's a stabilizer for the Belladonna!"

"So why have you not already begun to brew it? Can you not manage an experiment on your own?"

"And risk your wrath for trying something without your approval? I can't win with you, can I?"

Hearing the exasperation in her voice, he left the potion to simmer and turned toward her, his face and voice softening. "You are not a student anymore. You know what you are doing, so you do not need my permission to begin anything, Hermione."

Her breath caught in her chest as Severus murmured her name, and again she was pulled into his eyes. She felt a sudden, inexplicable impulse to reach up and kiss him; she wondered where it came from, since she had never even considered him as anything other than Snape. But the thought was not as unappealing as Hermione would have hoped. She cleared her throat abruptly.

"I will have to begin a fresh batch of the mortalis, then, since this must be done with the addition of the Belladonna," she told him as she moved to the third table, which held various ingredients and knives.

"I have already begun preparing the ingredients for the next batch, which you may use."

She thanked him and began preparing the potion. Severus sat down by the fire and began grading first year exams, glancing at her guardedly and occasionally staring. His talk with Minerva that afternoon had helped clear out some of the thoughts in his head. Unfortunately, she had been unable to offer any helpful suggestions other than it was in his best interest not to hurt Hermione, or else dire things would befall him.

He still wasn't even sure if he really did love her; a more cerebral part of his brain scoffed at the very idea, but every time he looked up and their eyes met, his heart nearly beat out of his chest. After a few hours of futile attempts at grading papers and surreptitiously watching as Hermione moved between the three potions, he grew bored and set down the papers. 

"How is everything coming?" he asked quietly as he approached her standing at the Veritaserum. 

"Oh, the Veritaserum's a bit clumpy, you were right. But I was able to add the feathers with no problem," she began, then started towards the stabilizing potion that sat next to the new batch of mortalis fallax. "I'm almost ready to add the Belladonna over here, along with the stabilizer. How much longer on the other mortalis?"

Severus trained his eyes to the other bubbling cauldron on the far end of the table. "It will be ready for testing by tomorrow afternoon."

"I'll be by after lunch then. Can you help me for a second?" Hermione asked as she began stirring the mortalis potion. "This needs to be continually stirred when the stabilizer is added, so I need you to pour it."

He nodded and joined her, picking up the smaller cauldron and holding it up. 

"Slowly," she instructed, as he began to pour.

"Keep stirring," he countered, catching her grin. He continued to add the concoction, until she was satisfied that was all of it, then he carried the dirty cauldron over to a large sink so that it could be cleaned later. 

"Thank you. I don't know how you manage that on your own."

"Magic, Miss Granger," he said with a hint of a smile. Hermione couldn't help but smile back as she finished stirring the mortalis fallax. 

"I think I'm finished here, so I'm going to get some sleep," she said as she picked up her books and notes, then started towards the door. 

Before she reached the door, Severus asked, "Will you be checking on your potions in the morning?"

"No, they both need to simmer a minimum of twelve hours. I'll come by after lunch to test the finished batch." She paused a moment at the door to look at him and add, "Good night."

He nodded and watched as she slipped out the door, closing it gently behind her, and he whispered, "Good night."

___  
A/N:

I'm sooooo sorry about the delay in ch 14! Crazy few weeks, got a lot written early then hit a wall, couldn't find the right direction. I think it's ok now....

Also, it would've been up on Wed, but had problems w/ ff.net. Sorry .... 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Fifteen

Severus stalked back and forth, pacing in front of the fireplace in his room. It was barely nine and so far this morning, he had already checked on the potions, though he knew none of them required so much as a stir; had finished grading all his exams; and had thoroughly cleaned and reorganized his storage closet. He had only been able to sleep a little over four hours, and he desperately wished he could sleep more. Usually he loved the Christmas holidays because there were no students around, but now, several days into it, he wished for the normalcy of his classes, so he didn't have to feel as if he were constantly waiting.

Waiting, waiting to see Hermione. He had supposed she would spend more time in the laboratory now that classes were finished, but if anything, it seemed she was spending less time there. She would usually come in once in the morning, then a few hours in the afternoon, and maybe a few more in the evening. 

He decided to attend breakfast, which he normally skipped, and he knew in part it was to see Hermione, though he had no idea whether she ate breakfast. He pulled on his robes and stalked to the Great Hall, stopping on the way to talk briefly with one of the Slytherins, a sixth year named Hannah, who was staying over Christmas. There were two other Slytherins staying, a brother and sister that were fourth and first years respectively, but he did not see them. 

As he entered, he scanned the table on the floor. Albus, Flitwick and Hooch were there, as well as five of the students that were staying over, but did not see Hermione, and he was somewhat disappointed. Dumbledore waved him over as he approached, and Severus obliged by sitting in the seat beside the Headmaster.

"Good morning, Severus! How are you enjoying your holiday so far?"

He snorted by way of reply. "I need to go to Diagon Alley."

"Christmas shopping?" Albus asked with a hopeful smile. 

"Hardly. I need potions supplies."

"I would rather you not go, Severus, you know why," he said, concern in his voice, but finally the old man conceded. "If you must go, take Hermione with you."

Severus scowled, even though he had anticipated the old man's response. "Very well," he sighed, but he couldn't fool Dumbledore, who looked at him with arched eyebrows and a slight twinkle, though the wizard didn't say anything. Severus couldn't help but wonder if Minerva had talked to him about their conversation a few days ago.

He suffered through some small talk with Albus while he drank two cups of black coffee, then excused himself. He went to Hermione's room and woke up the witch in the portrait that guarded her door. Grumbling, she went to look for Hermione, and came back momentarily.

"I hope you're happy," she groused at him. "Had to wake her up too."

Seconds later, the door opened, and a disheveled, not quite awake Hermione appeared, wearing a t-shirt and shorts, her bushy hair out of control.

"What do you want? It's too early."

"I need to go to London and Albus has requested that you accompany me. I apologize for the early hour, I did not realize you were still asleep." When she said nothing, he added, "We can go later, if that is more convenient."

"No, it's alright, now's fine. But you'll have to wait while I finish up my Christmas shopping," she said finally, ignoring his scowl. "Let me get dressed. Come on in, I'll be done in a second."

He entered, pulling the door shut behind him, watching her return to the bedroom. He browsed her bookshelves, looking for new additions since the last time he had been here. He pulled out a book on curses and countercurses and, sitting down with it, began to read.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione emerged from the bedroom, wearing a light blue sweater and khakis, her hair pulled back into a clip, although a few defiant wisps of hair still floated about her face. 

"Alright, let's go," she said, walking to the door, not waiting to see if he followed.

She walked briskly through the castle, aware of his presence behind her. They did not speak until after reaching the front doors.

"Where do you need to go?" she asked him as the doors opened to reveal a fresh layer of snow.

"The Apothecary."

"Is that it?" When he nodded, she asked, "Why don't you just give me a list?"

"While you might be capable of brewing potions, I trust no one with regards to selecting potions ingredients."

She rolled her eyes at him as she stopped and faced him at the edge of the path to Hogsmeade.

"Fine, why don't we make this a challenge? You give me the list, and I'll purchase the ingredients. If everything is satisfactory, you buy me lunch." 

"And if it is not satisfactory?"

"Name your price," she said boldly, watching his face for reaction.

He crossed his arms and stared at her, thinking intently. He smirked, just barely, as he answered, "We switch positions for a week. You teach potions, and I teach DADA."

"A day," she countered. "A week is hardly fair, since I only get lunch if I win."

"Very well, a day." He started down the path, Hermione following closely behind. "How much shopping must I endure today?"

"Endure? In case you've forgotten, _I'm_ doing _you_ a favor by going with you. You think Albus would have let you go on your own?" He scowled but didn't answer. She sighed. "Just a few things, actually. Something for Molly Weasley, and for Harry and Minerva. I need to go into Muggle London for my parents' presents, but I'll do that another time."

"Why should you make a second trip when we will already be in town?" he asked with a quick glance in her direction. 

"Because I'm sure you'll be like every other straight male in the world and bitch and moan the entire time I'm shopping. I'd just as soon do it on my own."

"Try me."

Hermione frowned at his flowing robes in front of her. He _wanted_ to go shopping?

"You really want to go shopping?"

"Not especially."

"Then why--"

He cut her off before she could even finish the question, his voice hard. "Because I have been holed up in this damn castle since the term began and I need to get out."

"Wait, you haven't left the castle since Russia?" she asked incredulously.

"Albus forbid it, or have you forgotten?" He omitted telling her that Albus had previously approved his leaving with Hermione's supervision, which Severus had stubbornly refused. "Until now, I have been sufficiently stocked with supplies that I did not have reason to leave."

They walked in silence for a moment, Hermione unsure of what Dumbledore would say if he found out they went into Muggle London. Against her better judgment, she made her decision.

"If you're going to go into town, you'll have to change out of your robes," she said finally as Severus slowed. "I can transfigure them into a long coat, which should be enough."

"That will be acceptable. We are now far enough to apparate. Where shall we go first?"

"Do you want to get your supplies now, or on the way back?"

"First is acceptable."

"Then we go to the Apothecary. See you there." 

With two distinct pops, they disapparated and appeared in Diagon Alley, in front of the shop, a few meters apart from one another. Severus strode over to Hermione and withdrew a sheet of parchment from his robes and handed it to her.

"Your list."

She accepted it wordlessly and opened the door to the shop. A barrage of smells assaulted her at first, until she grew accustomed to the various odors of the ingredients. She glanced over the list, noting a few items that she would have to ask for at the counter. 

Severus stood back and observed as she browsed through the rows of the shop. She was very methodical in her shopping, and very thorough, as well. He had known before accepting her bet that she would be as discerning as he would have been. He moved to stand behind her while she looked at the various types of black beetles.

"Are you sure that is what I would choose?" he purred, leaning over her shoulder as she began to choose some Egyptian beetles. "Those are rather expensive."

She inclined her face towards him and smirked at him, saying, "They are the best, which is what you always use."

He smiled at her back as he retreated, and she proceeded to the counter to finish up the list. The kindly old wizard at the counter helped her and totaled the entire purchase to twelve galleons and two knuts. Hermione looked expectantly at Severus who nodded to the old man.

"Put it on the Hogwarts account, Professor Snape?" 

The old man loaded everything into a small brown bag, obviously charmed to hold much more than its size would permit. He then passed it to Hermione, who thanked him and turned to Severus.

"Well?" she asked expectantly as they left the Apothecary.

"It would appear I owe you lunch."

Hermione grinned at him, somewhat surprised that he would concede so easily; she had expected to fight for her free lunch. 

"Thank you. Are you sure that's all you need?"

"Yes, you may proceed with your Christmas shopping."

He followed her to Flourish & Blotts, where she found a gourmet cookbook for Molly, _Magical Feasts in Minutes_, and for Minerva _Feisty Felines and Clever Cats: A Magical History of Cats Through the Ages_. Severus snorted at that one, but could offer no acceptable alternative. 

After purchasing the books, they went to Dervish & Bangs so that Hermione could find something for Harry. She finally settled one of the new models of Sneak-o-scopes she had seen in Hogsmeade; the one she chose was a beautiful gold ring with red rubies embedded in the shape of a lion. Having finished her Christmas shopping in Diagon Alley, they headed to the Leaky Cauldron, with Severus somehow getting stuck with carrying all the shopping bags. 

Hermione stopped outside the entrance to the pub and removed her cloak and withdrew her wand. She closed her eyes, murmuring an encantation, and with a flick of her wrist, the cloak changed into a long gray coat. She immediately put it back on over her sweater and pants and turned to Severus. 

"Robes?" she asked, holding out her hand. He complied, and she repeated the process, but left his black. Before giving it back to him, she scrutinized his clothing. "You'll stand out in that suit. Let me see the jacket."

Scowling, he started with the many buttons, until he finished and gave it to her. She transformed it into a regular suit jacket, then handed it back. He shrugged it on and felt rather naked without buttons up to his neck. 

"You still don't look quite right," she said, moving towards him. He inhaled sharply as she unbuttoned the top few buttons of his starched white shirt, now visible under the open jacket, ignoring the look upon his face. After he put on the long coat, she stood back and gave him an appraising look. 

"Not too bad, Professor," she said with a grin. 

"If you are finished," drawled Severus, secretly pleased at her reaction.

They went through the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione saying a quick hello to Tom, who greeted them from the bar, and out the front door into London. Since it was only two days until Christmas, the streets were crowded with chattering Muggles loaded down with shopping bags. They went first to a bookstore where she browsed the books on dentistry, while Severus looked about the store with great interest. It was his first time in a Muggle bookstore and he was fascinated. Hermione picked out a few books for her father, one on dentistry during the Renaissance, another filled with dentistry anecdotes. She paid for her purchases, then had to retrieve Severus from the Chemistry section.

"Have you read any of these books on Mug-- on chemistry?"

"Of course. I even have a few that I found helpful with potions," she said, looking at him with interest. "If you want, I can loan them to you."

They went down a few shops to a boutique that sold women's clothing, Hermione ignoring his protestations. Half an hour later, she stood at the counter, purchasing a silk scarf and a pair of earrings for her mother. His eyes narrowed as she handed the woman at the register a plastic card labeled "Gringotts."

"What are you paying with?" asked Severus, and Hermione hastily elbowed him in the ribs.

"I told you, I paid off the credit card last month," she said testily, raising her eyebrows and giving him an _I'll-tell-you-later_ look as the woman handed the card back.

As they left the shop, he turned to her. "Was it truly necessary to bruise my ribs?"

"You nearly gave yourself away in there. I was paying with a credit card, a Muggle invention that Gringotts recently adopted, especially for the Ministry." When he stared at her dumbly, she continued, "I can use this credit card in the Muggle world as payment, and Gringotts automatically withdraws the amount of purchase from my account. They even handle the exchange rate as well."

"So instead of paying with money, you use the card."

"Well, it's still paying with money since it pulls the money out of my account, it's just not using actual cash. It's very convenient when traveling abroad."

It was almost noon when they returned to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. They talked little during the meal, which Severus paid for without complaint. Afterwards, as they entered the alley behind the pub to return to Hogwarts, Hermione stopped, realizing she had forgotten something.

"I need to go by Flourish & Blotts before we go back."

"Again?" Severus asked with a frown. "You've already been once today."

"I know, but I forgot, I was supposed to pick up a book for Anne. I promise, it will only take a minute."

"I doubt that. I have seen you around books," he said, a corner of his mouth slightly upturned. "Very well."

"Really, it won't take long."

Minutes later, they were in the bookstore and Hermione had located and purchased the book Anne had requested. As they were leaving, a notice on the board beside the doors caught her eye. Curious, she stopped to read it.

_Due to unfortunate circumstances, Moyra Faldco will not be appearing in January for the book signing. This event will not be rescheduled. We regret any inconvenience this may cause._

Hermione frowned deeply, her mind racing. Moyra Faldco had been the author of _Extending the Life of Your Potions_, the book that had featured Hermione's own stabilizing potion, the one Draco had somehow got from Harry. Something was bothering her, but she couldn't place it.

_Moyra Faldco._

She gasped as it came to her. 

"What is it?" Severus asked as he waited at the door. 

"We've got to get back! Now!"

"So now you're ready to go back?" he grumbled as she raced out the door. 

By the time he made it outside, she was already disapparating. He followed suit and when he apparated on the path to Hogsmeade, she was already running away from him. 

"Granger!" he yelled at her retreating figure.

She slowed enough to call over her shoulder, "I'll meet you in the dungeons, I have to find something!"

Hermione sprinted off towards the castle without waiting for reply. Severus took his time walking back to the castle, still carrying all the bags, deciding not to attempt to decipher her sudden and strange behavior. When he arrived in the dungeons, he went straight to the workroom and found her pacing back and forth, muttering under her breath. 

"Would you care to explain what is going on?" he asked, setting the bags down on the floor.

She didn't seem to notice him. "I can't believe I was so _stupid_! I should have caught that ages ago!" 

"What?" he asked, approaching her. "What should you have caught?" 

Hermione finally heard him and turned to face him. "This. You were right."

He frowned, not understanding, when Hermione handed him a book which he recognized from before, _Extending the Life of Your Potions_, and a sheet of parchment. He quickly read the parchment, which was a letter from Ron Weasley detailing how to get in touch with Harry while he was out of country. 

"Are you planning on telling me what this is?" he asked, his patience wearing thin.

She started pacing again as she said, "That's the book with my potion in it, the one Draco sent you. It's written by Moyra Faldco." As she spoke, Severus again looked at the parchment. "The sheet is the contact information for Harry, which includes sending a letter addressed to one M. Faldco."

"Fuck."

"It gets worse."

"Moyra Faldco is an anagram," he murmured, rubbing his temples with his free hand.

"Right. For Draco Malfoy."

___  
A/N:

What do you know, it's ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER! Sorry, but I just can't help but write 'em lately! ;) But, to ease your worries, w/ all the problems w/ ff.net lately, I should have a good deal of ch 16 written by the time I actually get ch 15 posted. Sorry Codie, I tried to get it up in a week, but ff.net wasn't cooperating.

Psyche, you are partially right about the Wilde references. I had just seen _The Importance of Being Earnest_ (LOVE that Colin Firth; Rupert Everett isn't too shabby either) and really liked the name Algernon for a wizard so it just happened that way. As far as Anne, that was just a coincidence, nothing to do w/ Oscar. I hadn't really planned on re-publishing "Subterranean Homesick Potions Master," so didn't think about changing it ... I really like the name. And as far as Berkeley, I like to keep things the same, since it's almost an alternate timeline story, since Voldemort was defeated and Hermione got to go study potions. But you're the first person who's actually noticed, so I must say, you pay attention to details! :)

As always, I LOVE reviews so PLEASE let me know what you think. Also, I have author alerts turned on, or so I think, so if you click on that menu in the bottom left corner, you know, the one that says "Submit Review" -- hint, hint -- you can choose to add me to your Author Alerts. And if anyone does this, please let me know if you are alerted when I post ch 16. 

Thank you so much for reading this far. I hope it's been entertaining! 


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Sixteen

"Read the dedication page," Hermione instructed as she paced in front of the fire. 

He flipped through the first few pages of the book and began to read aloud, "'To L., who never believed me capable.'"

"Three guesses as to who 'L' is."

There was a long pause, until Severus finally said, "We should show this to Albus; he will know what to do."

"I hope so," Hermione sighed as she slumped into an armchair, head in hands, "because I sure don't."

He watched her, felt her helplessness, and decided he would find Dumbledore on his own. "Wait here, I'll be back."

With that, he strode out of the room, and into the corridor. She didn't look up as he left. Minutes later, Severus approached the stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office. He gave the password, opening the door to the staircase, but there was no answer when he knocked on the office door, which was locked. Next, he went downstairs to McGonagall's office on the first floor, but she was not present either. He crossed his arms and scowled as he stood in the hallway, thinking. Moments later, Filch rounded the corner.

"Good afternoon, Professor Snape." There was a pause as Filch took in the wizard's attire with a puzzled look, and Severus belatedly remembered he was still wearing the clothing Hermione had transfigured, but Filch wisely said nothing. He did ask, "Looking for Professor McGonagall?"

"The Headmaster, actually."

"I believe he's gone on holiday, seeing as it's Christmas and all. Left Professor McGonagall in charge."

"Of course." 

Thinking back, he seemed to remember Albus mentioning something at breakfast about visiting his nieces and nephew for Christmas, but Severus had paid him little regard.

Without another word to the caretaker, he started back to the dungeons, scowling. Albus always seemed to take holiday when he was needed the most, and he couldn't risk discussing this with anyone else, even Minerva. He still hadn't determined what to say to Hermione when he reached the door to the laboratory.

Severus stopped in the doorway, observing her silently, hunched over in the same chair, her knees pulled up and her arms wrapped around them, her face turned away. He approached her quietly and sat in the other chair, and she looked at him, her face stained with tears, though she did not appear to be crying anymore.

"Albus is gone," he said quietly. "On holiday. He's not due back until after Christmas."

That was all it took for the tears to start flowing again. She wept quietly, burying her face in her arms. He sat there in silence, feeling as if he should be doing something, anything, to make her feel better, but unsure of what to do, until the sobs subsided and she spoke, her voice strained.

"I'm scared something's happened to him. That he's dead." 

Severus wanted to reach out and pull her to him, to protect her from this pain, but still he sat there, watching her. 

"And then I think that it could be worse, that he could have--" 

Hermione broke off, unable to finish the sentence, her tears flowing again, and he could no longer watch her cry. He knelt on the floor before her and gently pulled her arms from her knees so that he could take her hands, but she wrapped them around his neck and slid to the floor, burying her face in his shoulder. He overcame a moment of astonishment and pulled her to him. One hand stroked her back, the other her hair, his fingers tangling in the mass of curls, as he tenderly rocked her back and forth. 

Severus lost track of time as he held her. His knees began to ache from the stone floor, but he had suffered through worse. She felt fragile in his arms, and he was afraid to let her go. He buried his face in her hair, kissing the top of her head as if he'd done it thousands of times before. 

Eventually, her sobs abated until she was quiet, her face still hidden in his robes, but she did not pull away. Her breathing evened out, and he tilted his head to catch a glance of her face, somewhat perplexed to find that she had fallen asleep. He shifted so that he could withdraw his wand from his pocket, slipped his wand hand under her legs, then slowly attempted to stand without waking her, quietly casting a spell to assist him in his efforts. He carried her down the hall to his classroom and into the office, then murmured the incantations to unward his quarters. 

For a moment, he debated taking her to the bedroom, but realized that could put her in an awkward situation whenever she awoke, and instead placed her carefully on the leather couch. He summoned a blanket and covered her; her eyes flickered open, but he soothed her, brushing her hair back from her face, and she slept again. He started a fire then sat in an overstuffed armchair beside the couch, shocked to see that it was nearly three in the afternoon when he glanced at the clock that rested on the fireplace mantle. 

Staring into the leaping flames, Severus thought about the implications of what Hermione had discovered. He had been right after all, when he told her weeks ago that either something had happened to Potter or he was now in league with Voldemort. He truly hoped it was the former, because if Harry Potter had joined the Dark Lord-- 

He didn't even want to finish the thought. There was no denying that Potter was a powerful wizard, but still, he couldn't imagine Potter using that power for evil. 

He glanced at Hermione as she stirred, but she only turned her face away and did not wake. He knew she was going to see the Weasleys for Christmas, and Potter was supposed to be there. Perhaps they could confront him there and sort this mess out. 

_If only Albus were here_.

He could owl the Headmaster and hope for a quick response. He realized that was his only option if he wanted an answer from Albus, but he was wary of sending that much information by owl, especially in a matter concerning the possible defection of Harry Potter. If something were to happen to Potter, it could completely demoralize their side. 

No, the only thing he could do would be to accompany Hermione to the Weasleys' and try to get some answers there. 

~ ~ ~

Hermione awoke to the soft flicker of a fire in an otherwise dark room. She blinked several times, not recognizing her surroundings, then she saw Severus asleep in an armchair.

_Must be his quarters._

She stood and approached him, murmuring, "Severus?" She gently put her hand on his shoulder when there was no response. "Severus?"

He jumped, his eyes wild, and Hermione flinched, his face softening immediately as he saw her. 

"What time is it? How long have I been asleep?" he mumbled. Sitting back down, she shook her head, then he glanced at the clock. It was six-fifteen. "How are you feeling?"

She sighed shakily. "I don't know. A little better, I guess."

"Do you need anything? Are you hungry, thirsty? Anything?"

His concern and the accompanying look of compassion took her by surprise and the memories of this afternoon flooded her. She began to cry again, the tears falling silently. Severus was by her side in a breath, and for the second time that day, his arms wrapped around her, his hand gently bringing her face to his neck. Her sobs were quieter this time, as though she had spent most of her tears. 

His heart ached with every sob that shook her chest, his hand smoothing her hair as he murmured reassurances in her ear. What hurt him most about watching her cry was that he knew the depths of her courage, had seen it every time she had tried to protect him, but he could do nothing to take away her fears. 

Hermione did not cry for long. After a few minutes, she pulled back to study his face with red eyes. As usual, she was unable to read anything in his steel black eyes, aside from a strange intensity that made her stomach leap. His hand tucked a wayward curl of hair behind her ear, his hand settling on the nape of her neck. 

Her breath caught in her chest, suddenly she wanted to kiss him. She drew a shaky breath and made up her mind, leaning in, her lips timidly searching for his. His eyes widened in surprise and his grip in the back of her neck tightened, but he did not break away. Encouraged, she parted her lips and her tongue stroked gently at his mouth. He capitulated, moaning and pulling her to him as he deepened the kiss.

As their tongues danced, he pulled her closer, feeling the roundness of her hips and breasts, everything that had turned her into a woman, pressing into him, tempting him. He had to have her, needed her. His hand slid up her back under the sweater, his fingers drawing circles on her skin, and she gasped into his mouth. 

_If only Potter could see me now_, he thought with a feral grin. 

Severus froze, his eyes widening as he recalled the situation, and he pulled away. The look of confusion and hurt upon her face tore at his heart, but he ignored them, knowing he had to stop this before he helped her make a mistake. 

"You are upset. We should not be doing this."

Hermione felt betrayed, because she felt the passion in his kiss, the wanting in his hands. But he was right; she was emotional right now, and this would only lead to further emotional trauma. Surely, under normal circumstances, she would not have initiated that kiss. She stood, her knees a little wobbly, and straightened her clothing.

"You're right, Professor, of course," she said, and he had never heard such coldness in her voice. "The exit?"

"Wait, Hermione," he murmured, but she ignored his plea and began looking around for the door. He sighed heavily, a scowl forming. "It's that door," he told her, pointing with one hand.

Hermione left without a word. After a moment, Severus walked over to a cabinet away from the fire and removed a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey and a glass, then returned to the couch. He poured himself a liberal glass and, drinking it in one gulp, poured another and downed it as well. He leaned back into the couch, rubbing his face with his hands. 

How could he have let that happen? She was emotional and had kissed him because she was lonely and afraid, nothing more. He shouldn't have tried to comfort her to begin with. His stomach lurched when the memory of her lips came back to him, unbidden. 

How could she think he did not want her? It had taken all of his self-control to push her away and not make love to her right there on the couch, he had wanted her so much. He should have just taken her since she was obviously willing, as he would have in his younger days, without care of her emotional condition. 

He growled and threw the empty glass into the fire. He grabbed the bottle of Firewhiskey and took a swig. He stood on shaky legs and made his way to the bedroom, still holding a tight grip on the bottle.

~ ~ ~

Hermione stormed back to her quarters, still smarting from his rejection, as well as the fact that he had pointed out the obvious about her emotional state, which she had not once considered before she kissed him. When she had looked into his dark eyes, she thought she saw desire, but now, she was unsure if she read him correctly.

As she waited for the staircases to align themselves, she realized she was starving. She contemplated returning to the Great Hall since it was in the middle of dinner, but she did not feel up to conversation. She would summon a house elf when she reached her quarters instead. Finally the stairs stopped, and Hermione reached her rooms moments later. 

She summoned a house elf, who immediately disappeared back to the kitchens and returned moments later with several other house elves. They laid out a miniature feast on her table, and Hermione dug in without poise. After stuffing herself, the house elves reappeared and cleaned up everything.

Hermione moved to the bookshelves, looking for something to take her mind off things, but she could find nothing she wanted to read. She paced in front of the fireplace for a bit, her mind restless as it went over the events of the afternoon. She still couldn't believe any of it. Either Harry had defected to Voldemort, or something bad had happened to him. And then she kissed Snape! What had she been thinking? 

Tired of her cramped quarters, she decided to prowl the castle instead. She grabbed her robes on her way out the door. 

It was well after midnight by the time Hermione returned to her rooms, still agitated. She changed into her bed clothes and lay in bed, but sleep did not come to her. After several hours of staring at the ceiling, she finally drifted off into a fitful sleep with dreams of Death Eaters dancing about, but the only two she could recognize were Harry and Severus.

~ ~ ~

"Hermione," a distant voice called. "Hermione, wake up! He's here again! I told him to go away, but he refused! Says it's urgent. Hermione!"

Hermione finally focused her eyes and saw Lucinda, the witch from the portrait that guarded her door, standing on a hill, surrounded by goats. 

"Hermione!"

"Bugger! I'm awake!"

"It's Professor Snape again. Won't leave!"

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Alright, alright, I'll take care of him."

Throwing her legs out of bed, she glanced at the clock on the bedside table and gasped. It was nearly one o'clock and she had told Molly Weasley she would be at the Burrow around noon! 

"Come in," she yelled, irritated that she was running late and that she had to deal with Snape at the same time. After yesterday afternoon, she didn't want to see him for at least a week, didn't trust herself not to hit him in the face. 

"Professor?"

"I'll be with you in a second," she answered testily, reaching under the bed for the pair of jeans she had been wearing last night. She pulled them on and grabbed a t-shirt. She swept her hair back into a loose bun, then burst out into her sitting room to find Severus waiting patiently. "Two mornings in a row, Professor. To what do I owe this honor?"

"You'll have noticed, no doubt, that it is no longer morning." He gave her a hard stare, but his voice lacked its usual scathing edge. "I think it is prudent that you not go to the Weasleys alone."

"So I'm the one who needs protecting?" she asked, her voice mocking. 

"It would not be so much protection as back-up. Consider what we know: either Potter has been compromised and is dead or captured, in which case someone, perhaps Malfoy, is impersonating him; or he is now working for Voldemort, which is worse still." He ignored her scowl and said, "Either way, you should not be alone."

He was right. He was always right, and it pissed her off. She pushed past him roughly, reaching for a leather satchel. She went back to her bedroom and pulled out a change of clothing and stuffed it in the bag. She also removed a green sweater and put it on over her t-shirt. She then added the various Christmas presents to the bag. 

He watched silently from the door to the bedroom. She was angry, he could tell, but she wasn't exactly trying to hide that fact. He wondered how much of the anger was result of himself. He moved to stand behind her. 

"Hermione," he breathed, his hands taking her shoulders. "I know you are angry, and I do not dispute your right to be. But do not let that anger keep you from seeing the precariousness of our situation."

With that, he turned and left her quarters. She stood rooted to the same spot for a moment. Gods, she hated it when he was right. She grabbed her bag and cloak and headed out the door after him, jogging quickly down the corridor. She caught up to him on the marble staircase to the first floor. 

"Professor," she called, slightly winded. He turned to look at her. "I would appreciate it if you would accompany me to the Burrow."

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes darker than normal. She began to think he would refuse her, until he nodded solemnly. "When do we leave?"

"Now, actually. I told Molly I'd be there an hour ago."

"Very well. I require a few things before we go."

She followed him to the dungeons, staying behind a safe distance so that she wouldn't have to talk to him. She was feeling very disconcerted because of the events of yesterday. Every time she thought about Harry, she couldn't help but think about how Severus had comforted her, and about the kiss as well, and it sent shivers up her spine each time. But his rejection had hurt, even though she could see now that he was making a decision based on her well-being. 

When he went to the classroom to reach his quarters, she didn't follow him but went instead to the laboratory to check on the potions. The mortalis with the new Belladonna stabilizer would be ready to test by New Years, and she was anxious to see how it worked. They had been working for months with no real improvement on the potion, and she felt they were due for a break at this point. 

The potion appeared to be in order, so she moved to the cauldron with Veritaserum. She noticed immediately that Severus must have put a stasis charm on the potion, because she had forgotten to do so. She pulled out a glass vial and stopper then filled it carefully with the potion. 

The door opened and Severus said from the doorway, "Good. I was on my way to do that. I am ready."

Hermione stoppered the vial and slipped it into her cloak. She started towards the door, then stopped, her mind working. "Do you think--" she started, then hesitated. He watched her intently. "Do you think we should take some of the mortalis with us?"

He started at her suggestion, mostly because he had not considered it himself, but also because of the acceptance in her voice. 

"I think given the circumstances, taking mortalis would be most wise." He moved to a far cabinet, opening it to reveal several vials of the potion held in stasis. He removed two and handed one to her. "Remember, it will take up to thirty minutes for the potion to take effect."

She nodded and they left the room, Severus warding it behind them, and they went upstairs to the front door. They stepped outside into a light sprinkling of snow. They walked in silence to where they could apparate. 

"Do you know where we're going?"

"No."

"Alright. Hang on," Hermione said, slipping her arms around his shoulders. As he brought his arms up around her waist, she suddenly remembered how he had pulled her to him and she shivered. She couldn't keep thinking like this if she wanted to apparate and not splinch them. She avoided looking at his face, instead turning away as she pictured the Burrow in her mind. 

With a pop, they disappeared. 

___  
A/N:

Ok, the author alerts do indeed work, so go ahead and click it if you want to be notified about the next chapter. 

Thanks sooooo much to my loyal reviewers! You really make my day.

Might be a two week wait for ch 17, since Order of the Phoenix will be out in a few days! Yay! I might have to read it twice. Plus I'll be out-of-town on vacation next week, so I won't be able to write much. I hope everyone gets their copy of it and loves it! 'Til then…. 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Seventeen

As soon as they apparated on the walk to the Burrow, Hermione extracted herself from Severus and, swiftly straightening her robes, she headed for the rickety house. The door burst open and Ron Weasley sprinted towards her, his long legs clearing the distance between them and his arms open. 

"'Mione! We've been waiting ages!" he cried, throwing his arms around her. He stopped mid-embrace, spying the Potions Master over her shoulder. "What's _he_ doing here?" 

"Long story, but I promise I will fill you in as soon as I've the chance."

"But Hermione, it's Christmas! What--"

"I can't talk now, but later, I promise. But you better be on your best behavior," she warned, tapping his chest with a finger. 

"Fine, but only if he is too," he muttered with a scowl. As if on cue, Severus strode up, Ron watching him until he greeted cautiously, "Professor."

Severus eyed him coolly, taking in Ron's slightly tattered robes. 

"Still wearing hand-me-downs, Weasley?" he asked with a wicked smile. "I should think the ministry paid aurors better salaries."

Ron's face burned to match his hair and he lunged toward Snape, his arms reaching out. 

"You greasy git, I'll beat you worse than Harry!"

She stepped smoothly in between them, her hands grabbed Ron's shoulders, wrestling him back towards the house; she could hear Severus taunting him further. Her anger getting the better of her, Hermione whipped out her wand and brandished it at Ron, who immediately stopped struggling and stared at her with an open mouth.

"I'm not going to play referee today, do you hear me?" she roared. "Go inside, now!"

"You'd better mind, Weasley, Miss Granger is serious."

Hermione whirled around, pointing her wand at the older wizard, red sparks flashing out of the tip. 

"Not another goddamn word! _Silencio_!" 

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Ron backing away, mumbling. Knowing he was still in earshot, Hermione rounded on Severus, who stood arms crossed, glaring with all his might. She recognized that look, the one that had always scared her, ever since she was eleven, but this time her anger made her impervious.

"I don't care what problem you have with my friends, but you will respect them in my presence! You are my guest today and I expect you to behave yourself as such. Another stunt like that and I'll transfigure you into a fucking newt!" Trembling with rage, her eyes bored into him. "Am I understood?"

Surprised by her sudden outburst, Severus stood watching her, no longer glaring, and his arms hung limply by his side. It dawned on him that she still harbored resentment against him for the kiss yesterday, something he had managed to avoid thinking about. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again, neither capable of speaking or even knowing what to say, his mind utterly blank. 

Hermione blinked, as if just realizing her situation, and he watched as the anger drain out of her. She lifted her wand and murmured, "_Finite Incantatum_."

She met his hard eyes hesitantly, waiting for the verbal lashing that was to follow, but it did not come. They stood in silence, until Hermione dropped her gaze to the snow-covered walk and sighed, turning towards the house. His behavior was so confusing at times, and she wouldn't -- couldn't -- deal with him now. 

"Professor," Severus called, his voice soft. She grudgingly turned to him, he saw a myriad of emotions in her eyes and his chest tightened. After a moment, he asked, "How would you like to proceed?"

"It would be best to let me talk to Harry alone. You being here will make him uncooperative."

"And what do we tell Weasleys to explain my presence?"

"I felt you would be safer here, with me."

"I suppose it would be too much to ask for the Potions Master to wish for company on Christmas," he retorted, a bit of a smirk showing.

"And who would believe that, exactly?" 

Hermione turned around before he could see her smile, feeling a little better, and continued to the house, Severus following behind. As soon as she walked through the front door, Molly Weasley had her in a tight embrace, and she couldn't help but smile. 

"Hermione! How are you, love?" Molly pulled back from the hug to give her a puzzled look as she said, "Ron says we have a guest."

"He actually said guest?" 

"Well, not exactly."

Severus walked in, wearing the smallest of scowls, and Molly was gone from Hermione's neck, now reaching for him.

"Severus! How delightful to have you for Christmas!" 

"Thank you, Molly," he squeezed out while the older witch clung to his neck, and he observed Hermione trying to suppress a smile.

"Everyone's in the kitchen," Molly announced as she stepped back from Severus. "Well, some of us, anyways."

"Actually, if it is possible, I need to wash up," Severus interjected, throwing a glance at Hermione. She read his look, and nodded, realizing he wanted her to explain his presence while he was out of the room.

"Of course, dear. Go down the hall, turn left and it's the second right. Just walk straight down this hallway here to get to the kitchen. Very well, Hermione, let's join the others," Molly said, wrapping her arm around Hermione's shoulders and steering her towards the kitchen. "Ginny's here, of course, as are Fred and George, who are no doubt outside exploding things for Bill and Charlie; of course, you already saw Ron. Harry's upstairs asleep, poor dear, arrived late last night." 

As Hermione reached the kitchen door, Ginny jumped to her feet from the long table, Ron scowled at her from where he sat across from her, his back to the roaring fire, and Mr. Weasley looked up from his copy of _The Daily Prophet_. Ginny grabbed her and pulled her into a crushing hug. 

"Good to see you, Hermione!" Arthur called as he looked over the top of his paper.

"Hi, Mr. Weasley," Hermione said once Ginny let go and she had regained her breath. "I'm sure Ron has already mentioned I'm not alone. I had to bring Severus with me, and I felt better keeping him in sight."

"Of course, dear! It's no problem," Molly said instantly, Arthur nodding his head in agreement. Ron snorted and his mother whirled, her face growing pink. "Ron Weasley, I do not care about your attitude, and I will not see you disrespect this man in my house. That goes for everyone else as well," she added, giving Ginny a piercing stare.

"What?" she cried, throwing up her hands. "I didn't say anything."

"Not yet. I had better tell the others about the Professor," Molly said, grabbing her cloak as she went outside to find her other sons.

"Still playing reserve for Montrose?" Hermione asked as she followed Ginny back to the table, sitting beside her and across from Ron. 

"Nah, got traded last week along with a beater and a keeper for Aelfraed Ainsworth, this great new Seeker who's only nineteen."

"I think I might've heard of him."

"It's a her, and you should have," Ron jumped in excitedly, getting over his irritation when the talk turned to Quidditch. "She's incredible! As good as Harry was before he got hurt!"

"Impressive. So where are you playing now, Ginny?"

"What, Ron didn't tell you?" she asked incredulously, looking at Ron, who merely shrugged.

"Sorry."

"I'm playing for the Cannons."

Hermione frowned. "But aren't they still--"

"Bad?"

"The worst fucking team in the league's more like it," Ron threw in, drawing a scowl from Ginny.

"You know your mother doesn't like that kind of language, Ron," Arthur said, not glancing up from his paper, so he didn't see Ron rolling his eyes.

"I thought they were your favorite team," Hermione said.

"They were until I got traded for Ainsworth. He didn't bother to tell you how gorgeous she is and that he's in love with her," Ginny said with a withering look at her brother, who shrugged again.

"Still playing professionally, Miss Weasley?" drawled a voice from the doorway. 

"Until I have to get a real job," she said with a shy grin. "Hello Professor."

Severus nodded politely. 

Mr. Weasley folded his paper as he stood and crossed the room, grasping Severus's hand and clapping his back with a free hand as he exclaimed, "Severus! Hear you're joining us for Christmas! Jolly good, old boy!"

"Arthur."

Hermione shot Ron a glare, and he glared back, before muttering, "Professor."

Severus looked down his long nose at him, his voice disdainful as he answered, "Weasley."

"Please, Severus, have a seat," Arthur said, motioning to the empty seats at the table while he returned to his own place. Severus sat at the end of the table, his arms crossed, lips pursed.

"How're classes going?" Ginny asked.

"Ugh, don't ask. The only thing getting me through the day is that I won't be here next year."

Severus glanced at Hermione sharply, and she saw briefly saw surprise and wondered if Albus had informed the rest of the staff. 

Ron stood, stretching his long arms, then said, "I'm going to find Mum."

He turned as the outside door opened and a loud chattering filled the kitchen as four tall redheads shuffled in, prodded by their round mother. 

"Oy, Charlie, did you try one of the new creams?" Fred yelled. "We've expanded the line to include--"

"Fred, I don't want any of your experiments in the house, do you hear? Bill, darling, won't you please take off your earring, just for dinner?"

Hermione quickly scanned the faces for Bill and nearly swooned in her seat. He was still as handsome as ever, and he winked at her, his white teeth flashing as he smiled. 

"Hey, Hermione!" George called, and she grinned and waved. 

"Mum, can we eat now? Hermione's here," Ron whined. "I'm starving."

"Someone needs to wake up Harry," Ginny said, raising her voice to be heard over the twins, who were chattering loudly to Bill and Charlie about the business.

"I'll go," Hermione volunteered. "I needed to talk to him anyways."

"He's in my room," Ron said. "You remember?"

"Of course. Don't wait, we may be a few minutes."

"Are you sure, hon? We can wait--"

"Mum!" 

"It's alright, Mrs. Weasley, go on."

Hermione stood and crossed to the door, barely nodding at Severus as she passed. He jumped up behind her and grasped her lightly above the elbow once they were in the hallway. 

"Are you sure it is wise to see him alone?" he asked. "You could be in serious danger."

"Your presence would scare him, no matter the case. He's told me he'll give me answers about Malfoy and the potion, so I'll see what he has to say about that. And if he doesn't want to talk voluntarily, I've got the Veritaserum."

"Will he take it?"

"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "If we're not downstairs in twenty minutes, come looking for me. Get Ron or Ginny to bring you up."

"I still do not like this," he growled, his fingers tightening on her arm slightly, until he released her. "Very well. Be careful."

He gave her a long look, his eyes unguarded, and she started at the concern the he showed. He turned abruptly and strode back to the kitchen, his robes rising up behind him. She stared at him for a moment before heading towards the staircase by the front door.

She climbed the winding stairs, noting the empty room that had once belonged to Percy. Ron didn't want to talk about him, and she didn't dare bring it up. She would have to remember to ask Harry.

_If this really is Harry_, she reminded herself darkly.

She continued up the stairs, working on what she was going to say to Harry. She reached the fifth floor, hesitating before knocking softly. She knocked again, louder, when there was no answer. She opened the door cautiously, peeking through the opening at the sprawled figure on the bed. 

"Harry?"

There was a muffled groan from the bed, and she opened the door further. 

"Harry," she said again, entering the room and sitting on the foot of the bed. "Harry."

"Hermione!" Harry gasped as he sat up, the sheet slipping down to his lap, revealing his broad and pale chest, then reached for his glasses. "Fucking Merlin! You nearly killed me!"

"Oh, you'll be fine! Heard you got in late last night."

"Yeah, had some business."

"Oh yeah?"

He didn't answer, just rubbed his eyes as he yawned. "I miss anything exciting?"

"Not especially."

"What time is it anyway?" 

"A bit after one, I think," she said, watching him as he yawned again, and this time stretched, the flat muscles of his chest and arms working, and she wondered, not for the first time, why she had to think of Harry as a brother. She realized that she had been staring and he grinned at her. 

"Okay, what is it, 'Mione? I can tell something's bothering you."

She laughed, just barely. "You told me Draco Malfoy stole my potion. What happened?"

"Oh gods! I can't believe I fucked up so badly," he said, throwing the sheet off his legs and swinging them over the side of the bed. "I ran into our old friend while I was in Berlin. I was eating dinner, going over the notes you sent me, when Malfoy showed up and decided to reminisce with a few nasty hexes, one of which caught me and knocked me out for nearly three days. He grabbed my papers and apparated. I'm lucky he didn't take me back as a souvenir for Voldemort."

"Why didn't he?"

"There was a Jäger there with me, a German auror, y'know, and he ran off Malfoy, got me to the hospital real fast."

"That was lucky," she said. 

"Yeah, tell me about it," he said, standing to grab his khakis from the chair by the window. He pulled them on over his boxers, then grabbed a white t-shirt, putting it on before a black sweater. He reached up by habit to brush down his hair, but it refused, as always.

"Harry, I need to know what's going on." He gave her a blank look, and she elaborated, "What you've been doing all this time, when we don't hear from you."

"You know I can't talk about it."

"I need you to tell me the truth because I'm beginning to worry," she pleaded and he sat down in the chair, smiling. 

"You shouldn't worry. I'm fine, safe."

"Who is Moyra Faldco then?"

"The woman I stay with," he answered easily. His green eyes met hers, and her stomach churned. She didn't want to believe he was lying, but he wasn't telling her the truth, she knew that much.

"I don't… I don't believe you," she said, her voice wavering at first until she gathered her courage. "Moyra Faldco is an anagram. You're doing something with Draco, aren't you, but I don't know what."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but seeing the look in her eye, he knew it was futile. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, managing a small grin.

"I thought you might've noticed." He sighed heavily. "You're right. The night Draco attacked me? Didn't happen. I found him, in an alley in Berlin, half-dead. He'd pissed off Lucius, who left him to die after many rounds of beatings and crucio. I took him home, nursed him back to health, and started working him as a spy against Voldemort."

Hermione stared at him skeptically, frowning. "Draco is the spy? How can you prove any of this?" 

"You know that truth serum your buddy Snape was on back in Russia?" When she nodded, he asked, "Who do you think made potions for Lucius? Didn't Snape tell you that the potion didn't work quite right?"

"I seem to remember him mentioning that. But how do I know you're telling me the truth?" She pulled out the small vial of Veritaserum from her pocket. "Would you take this?"

"I can take you to Draco. I can't take Veritaserum because there's some things I still can't tell you, even now." His green eyes implored her, and she hesitated.

Hermione watched him carefully, until she decided. "Give me your wand."

_Severus will flay me for this when I get back. If I get back. Shit, what am I doing?_

He did not hesitate as he withdrew his wand and handed it to her, which offered some reassurance. They both stood, and Harry took two steps towards her, wrapping his arms around her for a quick hug.

"It is good to see you, 'Mione."

"You too."

With a pop, they were gone.

~ ~ ~

Severus forced himself to eat a plate of delicious food while he waited nervously for Hermione to return with Potter. He hadn't liked this idea at all, but there wasn't much else he could do under the circumstances, with Dumbledore on holiday. 

"Wonderful, Molly," he told her, in all honesty, as he took his dirty plate to the counter.

"Did you get enough, Severus? There's plenty more! You could use some meat on those bones," Molly said as she gazed at him appraisingly.

Sure he heard sniggering from the table, he whipped around and glared, but all of the Weasley children appeared to be talking with food stuffed into their mouths and did not make eye contact. He sat back down in his chair and checked his watch. Hermione had been gone for thirty minutes. 

He cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should check on Professor Granger and Mr. Potter."

Ron scowled. "Leave 'em alone, she hardly gets to see him anymore."

"They have been up there awhile," Molly said. 

"I'll go," Ginny mumbled, after a look from her mother. She pushed back her chair and went to the door.

"I shall go with you, if that is permissible," Severus said, standing as well, and Ginny shrugged. 

He followed her down the hallway to the winding stairs and up five flights until they reached a door with a faded sign that read "Ronald's Room."

Ginny knocked twice and, pushing open the door, yelled, "Hope you're decent!"

He scowled, noting a twinge of jealousy at the thought of walking in on Hermione and Potter in a compromising position, but he peered in over Ginny's red hair, gasping involuntarily when he saw the empty room.

Ginny, however, thought they were playing a prank. "Where are you guys? Are you under the invisibility cloak?"

"They are not here," he murmured behind her. "I would be able to detect their scents."

She gave him a curious look, and he crooked an eyebrow. 

"Right. So I guess we better look for them," she said, starting back down the stairs, opening doors along the way.

With each empty room, the knot in Severus's stomach grew. As they returned to the ground floor, he followed Ginny back to the kitchen. 

"Okay, where are they?" Ginny asked, frowning at Ron and the twins alternately, as if they were hiding Harry and Hermione.

"Who?" Ron asked blankly.

"Harry and Hermione, of course!"

Severus approached Arthur and spoke in low tones, "I need to speak to you."

"Of course. We can use my office."

He followed Arthur out of the kitchen and down the first hall with the bathroom. He could hear the clamor from down the hall, which sounded as if Ginny had finally made them understand that the two were not upstairs. Down another hallway, they reached a small room, filled with strange gadgets, several of which Severus registered as Muggle appliances. One wall was covered in its entirety with electrical plugs, and another, posters of various Muggle cars. 

Arthur quickly lit a fire and sat down behind a small wooden desk, the top buried beneath a mountain of paperwork. Severus sat in the chair across from him.

"So what is this about?"

Without delay, he launched into an edited version of the events, briefly telling how they had realized Draco Malfoy had Hermione's potion, and that they believed Harry to be compromised in some sort of fashion. 

"Professor Granger went upstairs with the intention of confronting Potter about all this, and now they are both gone." 

Arthur shook his head. "This cannot be good. If they apparated, there's no telling where they went."

"I believe the most prudent thing would be to contact the Headmaster immediately. I have gathered that Potter reports to Albus more than the Minister."

"Even I am in the dark about Harry's activities," he admitted. "We shall owl Albus at once. I'm afraid our family owl is in terrible shape, but Ron's owl Pigwidgeon should be up for the task." He opened a drawer of the desk and withdrew parchment and a quill and passed them across the desk. "Let me get that owl."

Severus grabbed the quill as Arthur left the room. He didn't know where to begin. 

_Dear Albus, hope you are enjoying your holiday while Potter is working for Voldemort and kidnapping our teachers._

He scowled and started to write, setting the quill down after a moment.

_Potter and Granger have disappeared. Please advise. SS_

He was folding the parchment when Arthur returned with a small ball of feathers twittering excitedly. The owl flew over to the desk and hopped expectantly. 

"Be still," Severus chided, and Pig calmed down immensely. He tied the note to the owl's tiny leg, then held the owl up in his hand. "Find Albus Dumbledore immediately. This is important."

Pigwidgeon hooted in acknowledgement, and flapped his wings, flitting about while Arthur opened the window, letting in a cold draft, and the owl darted outside.

Severus sank back into his chair, and covered his face with his hands. "I shouldn't have let her go alone," he muttered.

"She'll be fine," Arthur soothed. "Hermione can handle herself."

_That's what she thinks_, he thought dejectedly, and sighed. 

"There's not much we can do now, Severus, except wait. So why don't we go back and have some of Molly's delicious desserts? I know she made three pies, as well as cake."

He allowed Arthur to lead him back to the kitchen, where Molly attacked them with plates of sweets, but Severus did not eat, merely sat at the table, alone in his worry.

___  
A/N:

More strangeness from Harry! What is going on with him? You'll get more in ch 18!

Thanks for all the support for ch 16! I was really hesitant to post it, since I wasn't sure if the timing was right, but I think most people liked it. Thanks sooooo much! Again, if you want reminders when I update, choose Author Alerts from the little menu at the bottom left. You can even do it when you leave a review! (hint, hint) 


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Eighteen

As soon as they apparated, Hermione pulled away from Harry and surveyed her surroundings, her hand slipping into her pocket and fingering her wand anxiously, hoping desperately that she had made the right decision in trusting Harry. She really didn't know who to trust anymore, because no one was telling her the whole truth, not even Dumbledore.

They stood in the living room of a small flat. The walls were bare, except for a brand new poster of the Chudley Cannons, and she spotted a flash of red hair zooming around that could only be Ginny Weasley. A yellow threadbare couch rested against the far wall, flanked by two mismatched armchairs, one pale blue and the other orange, in similar condition as the couch. Old copies of _The Daily Prophet_ and various parchments covered the two chairs, as well as the coffee table. 

A hallway to the right led back to the bedroom, she presumed. Through an open door behind her, she saw the kitchen, every surface covered with bowls, plates, and glasses stacked precariously. It appeared they did not employ a house elf, whether by choice or lack of funding, she did not know. 

"Draco!" Harry called as he started back to the bedroom, waving for her to follow. "There you are. We have company."

Entering the room cautiously, she saw Harry help Draco sit up in bed and quickly absorbed his terrible appearance. His shoulder-length white-blonde hair was dull and lay limply on his skull, he had dark circles under his pale blue eyes, his lips were dry and cracked, and he looked extremely thin, practically emaciated. She could nearly count the ribs that appeared from under sheet that now lay in his lap. 

"Hermione Granger," Draco said, his voice unsteady. "Please excuse me, I'm not feeling well today."

"Draco," she said coolly, watching as Harry fussed about him, arranging the pillows, handing him a glass of water. "I wish I could say I'm sorry about your father…."

He laughed, a forced sardonic laugh which didn't extend to his eyes. "Snape did me a favor by dispatching of him. I would have done it myself, if I had the courage," he added, his eyes dropping. After a beat, he looked up at Harry, saying, "I thought Dumbledore was the only one who knew about me."

"You know her, Draco, she couldn't pass up a bit of a mystery," Harry said as he went to sit in a chair by the bed.

He nodded. "Of course. You saw the book and put it all together."

"It took me awhile, but yes."

"And now you want answers." Draco sighed, his shoulders sagging as if the air in his lungs had been the only thing holding him upright. "Harry, would you? I really don't have the strength right now."

"I started watching Draco back in March. Dumbledore thought I might be able to turn him as a spy, thought he still had some good in him. One night in April, he disappeared -- to a Dark Revel, I think --" Draco nodded in agreement "-- and he was gone for several days. Usually he would be back in a matter of hours, so I was getting worried. Thought he might've spotted me following him and ran.

"I found him in an alley near his flat, practically dead. Lucius had been angry with him, beat him, used _crucio_ countless times, as well as some other nasty spells, then left him to die. But somehow he managed to apparate back to Berlin. I treated his wounds as best I could, then owled Dumbledore for help. He brought a Mediwitch who nursed him back to health over a few days then was promptly obliviated. 

"After that, we had to convince Lucius to take him back, which wasn't truly that difficult. That's where the book comes in -- _Extending the Life of Your Potions_. I let Draco give it to Lucius as a gift, as well as the story I told you back at the Burrow, to win him back. And it worked. Lucius was arrogant enough to believe that Draco would crawl back sniveling, begging to return to his father.

"Then Snape killed Malfoy back in August … that was the best thing that could have happened for us. His death left a void in the upper ranks, and Draco was able to get in further with Voldemort, since he still has most of his father's various connections, so now he's the primary potions supplier for the Death Eaters. I think that's pretty much everything," Harry said, pausing and looking to Draco to see if he had left anything out, but he shook his head.

Hermione regarded her oldest friend, and Harry stared back unflinchingly as she weighed all of the information, wondering whether he was telling her the truth. She decided that he had been, but he still held something back.

"That would explain why we never see you anymore," she said finally, breaking the long, silent moment, drawing a sliver of a smile from Harry. "So is Dumbledore the only one who really knows what you're up to?"

Harry nodded. "Not even Fudge knows what's going on for sure. He just knows I'm doing the old man's business, although he 'gives' me assignments, such as hunting down rogue vampires, to keep up appearances that I'm in exile from the Ministry. Voldemort likes to keep tabs on me, you see, and Draco assists in that. I even show up in those places from time to time, just so there are outside reports of my presence."

Draco started coughing violently and Harry jumped out of his chair, rushing over to the bed, rubbing his back as the coughs slowly abated. 

"Time for your potion," Harry said when Draco was quiet again. He stood quickly and moved to the door, turning to her as he passed. "You want something to drink?"

"Water, thanks." As he left, she sat in the now vacant chair and looked at Draco. "If you don't mind me asking, what's wrong with you?"

"What's not wrong?" Draco asked with a grim smile. "To get to the point, I'm dying. My father hexed me the night Harry found me, a really dark, old curse, but we don't know what. I'm slowly dying, and the potion is the only thing keeping me alive right now, but it won't last."

"What are you taking?"

"It's a concoction that Harry and I came up with, with some help from Snape before he was found out. Chopped leeches, mandrake roots, unicorn blood."

"Unicorn blood?" Hermione gasped. "But --"

"I'm already dying," he interrupted, his voice sharp and his pale blue eyes lit up in warning. "If I'm lucky, I have six, maybe eight months. We haven't yet found a countercurse, and I don't expect we will. I'm merely delaying the inevitable." He sighed heavily, closing his eyes. "I can only take the potion once every forty-eight hours, it's so strong. I nearly overdosed four or five times during the first few months we worked on it. The effects only last about thirty-three hours, so the rest of the time, I look like this. A few hours after the it wears off, I can't get out of bed, I can't do anything, not even the simplest magic."

Hermione was about to ask what would happen if Voldemort were to summon him while he was in this condition, followed closely by what he told his father about the curse and why he hadn't died or even become ill, but Harry returned, holding a glass of water which he handed to Hermione, and a large opaque vial, roughly the size of a grapefruit. He unstoppered the vial as he went to the bed and gently placed his hand on Draco's neck, tilting his head back so he could pour the greenish-black liquid down his throat.

The change was so sudden that Hermione nearly dropped her glass in surprise. Draco's complexion glowed a healthy pink, his eyes and hair sparkled once again, and he sat upright slowly, as if his muscles has lost all will to move in the last fifteen or so hours. In fact, the only thing that belied his previous condition was his unnatural thinness. She wondered how he could ever pass as himself off, to Lucius or Voldemort or anyone as being in good health.

She suddenly felt lightheaded as she thought that he couldn't have been able to fool anyone, as sick as he was, that Harry hadn't been telling her the truth after all. She looked back up at them, her vision blurring, trying to force the two images floating before her eyes into one solid picture, but her head felt heavy and she glanced down, watching as the glass in her hands slipped through her fingers in slow motion and it tumbled to the floor, the water rushing up and out and everywhere, the drops catching sparkles of light as they flew through the air, and the carpets rushed up to meet her and she closed her eyes.

"Jesus, what took you so long?" Draco exclaimed as he threw back the covers, exposing his sickly legs, two sticks emerging from the loose boxers he wore. "Why didn't you just stun her? Then I wouldn't have had to sit here through all that drivel."

Harry set down the empty vial and kneeled by the sleeping figure on the floor, his fingers searching for a pulse at her neck. Satisfied, he straightened her body and brushed a curl back from her face.

"I know, but I wanted to at least give her something to be obliviated. Something to try to remember."

"I don't think that's wise, Harry," he warned, his voice growing serious. "If she remembers anything, she's liable to come back here."

"Then we'll move. Won't be the first time." He watched as Draco struggled with a maroon sweater, his gaunt shoulders twisting as the wool slid down his pale torso. "You need to eat more. We should get some of that weight-gain stuff Muggles use."

"I can't keep anything down, you know that. So why bother?"

He was now working on a pair of black trousers, gingerly lifting one foot and balancing on the other. He wobbled once, then again, and Harry jumped up by habit, but stopped short when Draco gave him a hard stare.

"Because there's still the possibility." 

Draco continued to pull on his pants. He did not meet Harry's pleading gaze, did not want to see the false hope in his eyes. He had spoken the truth to Hermione, the truth that Harry refused to see, that there was no countercurse to be found, no miracle potion that would make him better. _He was dying._

"I suppose you want me to obliviate her." He sighed as Harry nodded, then said, "I'll need a few hours before I can. Not to mention, I'll have to come up with something good for her to remember."

"Take your time. She'll be out for awhile after what I gave her." He grinned. "Too bad she can't see how far my potions skills have come since Snape's class."

"That's because you've had a _good_ teacher," Draco said, his voice silky. 

Harry reached out, grabbing the other's wrist and pulled him roughly. "I thought you were the best," he growled, his mouth searching and capturing Draco's lips. 

"I _am_ the best," he answered, throwing his arms around Harry and pressing against him for a longer, deeper kiss which lasted an eternity.

~ ~ ~

Severus paced the floor of Arthur Weasley's office at the Burrow, his brow furrowed as if deep in thought, though his thoughts in actuality were not deep at all. He kept coming back to the stark fact that he allowed her to see Potter alone, without any protection. He ignored Albus Dumbledore, who stood watching the snow beginning to flurry outside the window, as well as Arthur and Molly, he in his chair behind the desk and she sitting across the desk from him. Each tried to ease his worry, but he alone accepted the danger that she was in, that he had placed her in. 

"Severus," Albus said, turning back to the others. "I have no doubt that they will return shortly, and with a perfectly logical explanation for this disappearance. Surely you remember how impetuous they were as students."

"But Hermione is more cautious now. She would not have left without informing me."

"Maybe she just forgot," Molly said. "She hasn't seen Harry in awhile, so perhaps she was too wrapped up to tell you."

_She wouldn't have left without telling me. She_ wouldn't. 

He whirled to face Dumbledore. "Explain to me how Draco Malfoy got that potion."

The old wizard sighed, scratching his chin through his beard, thinking. "This cannot leave this room," he began, his gaze meeting everyone present. "This past spring, while Harry was studying the potion Hermione sent, Draco attacked him and stole everything. It very likely that Harry would have been killed, had it not been for a German Auror who had been assigned to protect him."

"Is that what Harry says?" Severus growled, his eyes dark. 

Albus watched him with muted interest, though inwardly surprised at the anger the younger man exuded. Perhaps he truly cared for Hermione. Minerva had hinted towards it, but Severus always made it so hard to determine his feelings on any subject. 

He inclined his head, locking eyes over the rims of his glasses. "Yes, that is what he says."

Severus got the underlying message, and a glance to the faces of Molly and Arthur revealed they did too. _Harry Potter is above distrust._

He drooped into a chair beside Molly and frowned. Hermione had been gone with Potter for nearly seven hours now, and his stomach churned with anxiety.

_It's my fault. I shouldn't have let her go alone. I should have insisted. It's my fault. All my fault. _

A heavy silence fell over the room, until Molly finally stood.

"We cannot accomplish anything by moping around," she announced brusquely. "Seeing as it's Christmas Eve, we shouldn't be cooped up in this office. How about I make a fresh pot of tea and we join everyone else?"

"What a lovely idea, Molly. I myself would not say be opposed to something stronger, however," Albus said with a twinkle, an idea which was seconded by Arthur.

"What do you think, Severus? I do have a nice bottle of scotch hidden away, as well as some Firewhisky."

Severus sat slouched, arms crossed, his chin resting on his chest, scowling at the desk. "No, thank you, Arthur. I would rather be alone right now."

"Come join us if you feel like it," Molly said, reaching over to pat his shoulder. "Would you like me to bring you tea or something else?"

He shook his head. 

"Albus?" Arthur asked, standing, and he crossed to the door. 

"I will join you shortly." The Weasleys left the room, the door gently clicking shut, and he moved to rest on the corner of Arthur's desk. Severus stared resolutely at the beard-covered stomach before him, refusing to meet Albus's gentle gaze. The silence lasted for nearly a minute while he considered his Potions Master. "So how are things progressing between you and Hermione?"

Severus coughed sharply and sat up, his black eyes darting to the beginnings of a smile on Dumbledore's mouth, the twinkling blue eyes. "To what are you referring, exactly?" he growled.

"To whatever you wish to tell me. Anything or everything or nothing. Long ago, you used to talk to me, Severus."

Standing, Severus crossed to the window. He watched the snow flakes drifting through the dark, and his mind leapt to her, and he shivered, pulled his robes tighter . He heard the quiet footfall behind him, and Albus's hand came to rest on his shoulder. 

"I am worried for her, as well." 

He rubbed his mouth with one hand, then up to his greasy hair, toying with it as he let out a long breath. "It's not just -- I let her go in there alone, knowing that she could be in danger." _I let her go_.

He reluctantly raised his eyes to Dumbledore's gaze, and suddenly the kindness there flooded him and he could no longer pretend, allowing the old man to see everything, every sadness and hurt and fear, let Albus pull him into a strong embrace that belied his old frame, and he even brought his own arms up to return the embrace, if only for a moment. He pulled away from Albus's grasp, his eyes clouding, turning back to the window.

"Everything will be fine, Severus, _everything_. You'll see." He heard Dumbledore move away from him, and the creak of the door. "Shall I have Molly bring you a scotch?" There was no answer, no signal that he had been heard. "I will take that as a yes," he said, then closed the door behind him.

Severus slouched into the nearest chair and lay his head back, closing his eyes. He opened them only when, a little later, Molly knocked and entered with a glass of scotch, which he took gratefully. 

"Let me know if you need something, dear," Molly said, patting his arm and leaving. 

It wasn't until her footsteps retreated down the hall that he noticed Molly had left the entire bottle on the desk, and he gulped the drink in his hand before reaching for the bottle, feeling the warmth grow in his stomach and slowly spread through his bloodstream. He nursed the second drink, losing himself in dark thoughts. 

He was halfway through the third when the commotion began in the front hall. He could hear voices, loud and boisterous, and he burst from the office and went towards the sound, his heart leaping when he saw Hermione standing near the front door, talking animatedly with Molly and Ginny. His eyes traveled further and he saw Harry holding a pastry and laughing with Ron and Fred and George; Arthur, Charlie, Bill and Albus behind them, talking in low voices. Dumbledore caught his eyes, nodded slightly, as if to say, _See_. 

He scowled, feeling quite out of place among the joyous extended family before him. Hermione glanced over at him as Ron talked, and she half-smiled, an apologetic sort of smile, but he glared at her and moved past all of them to the door.

"Since it appears everything is in order, I shall return to Hogwarts," he announced, his cold voice slicing through the different conversations, then he slipped out the door before anyone could respond. 

Confused, Hermione looked to Albus, who nodded to her, and she excused herself, followed him outside.

"Professor, wait," she called to his retreating figure. She dashed after him. "Severus!"

He slowed, let her catch up to him. The yellow lights from the Burrow lit up Hermione's face, but leaving his own in shadow, and he stared at some point just the left of her head, refusing to make eye contact.

"I made a mistake," she murmured and he struggled to hear, "and I'm sorry. I should have told you I was going."

It was more or less what he expected, though perhaps with less emotion than he might have wished for. The cold slipped in through his cloak, which he had not fastened, his skin prickling, but he did not move, did not speak. He pushed all the anger and emotion away, keeping his expression cold and disinterested.

"I also found out what happened to the potion." His eyes darted to hers briefly, saw the concern and looked away. "Draco attacked Harry, stole it from him, then published it."

Finally he spoke, his eyes distant as he looked at her, through her. "And what of sending letters to M. Faldco?" 

"He was trying to trap Draco by sending mail to his alias."

"This is what you discovered in your seven hours away?" he asked, his voice dripping with venom, and his eyes bored into her. Her eyes widened, her mouth worked to form words, but nothing came out. "I have wasted enough time here today."

He shouldered past her, oblivious to her hand reaching after him, pulling on his robes, pulling him back to her, and as he turned to face her, he grew inches before her, so that he stood, staring down his nose at her, causing her insides to quaver and she timidly released him.

"Severus, I'm sorry, I really am." Her eyes pleaded with him. 

But he was past reasoning, and he glared at her, this time she could see everything, could read his eyes finally, and she cringed as she saw the hurt and betrayal, the anger and a touch of sadness. 

"Merry Christmas," he snarled, and he watched her face crumble at his cold words before he turned on his heel, walked a few meters before he disappeared. 

Hermione watched the snow swirling where Severus had last stood, and she held back the tears, wanting to go after him, to try to comfort him. She stood there until her toes tingled from the cold, and she returned to the house and the burgeoning Christmas Eve party going on inside. 

__  
A/N:

Sorry for the delay on this chapter. Went to Vegas and gambled and drank and smoked and lived like a true heathen for four days. It was incredible!

So what the hell is up with Harry? Keep reading! It will all be explained, eventually. 

If you want me to personally email you when I update, please leave your email in the review and I'll add you to the list. 

To all my reviewers, thank you, thank you, thank you!!! This fic now has over 100 reviews! (And I thought I'd never get 50!) You guys really do make my day. 


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Nineteen

Albus pulled Harry and Hermione aside as soon as she returned, and they went back to Arthur's office, where they were joined by Arthur and Molly. 

"You gave us quite a scare," he began as he leaned against the desk before them, his arms crossed, fingers twirling his white beard, his blue eyes lingering on Harry. "Would either of you care to explain?"

He shrugged. "I had to tell her about Draco and that potion, then I took her to my flat in Bucharest. We started talking and just lost track of time."

"I didn't realize we had been gone as long as we had. It felt like we were gone only a few hours," Hermione added.

Dumbledore glanced over to her, his eyebrows raising. "Indeed," he said, his eyes slipping back to Harry. "It would appear as if everything is in order, unless either of you has anything more to say."

"There isn't anything more," Hermione said, and Harry agreed. 

"Well then, I believe we are finished."

"Harry, dear, Hermione, come on to the kitchen, you must be starving," Molly said. 

"Ravenous!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet. She followed Molly and Arthur from the room, but Harry waited behind, his eyes never leaving Albus's. 

"I hope you shall use more discretion, Mr. Potter, in the future." He frowned and his manner grew stern. "I do not like to see my teachers obliviated."

"I didn't obliviate her," he answered, throwing his hands up in defense. "We just talked."

"Of course." 

It became a battle of wills, Harry's brilliant green eyes against Dumbledore's blue, and Harry knew the old man knew, but that made him all the more stubborn. But Albus relented first, sighing, and looked down at his time-worn hands.

"I don't know about you, Harry, but I'm famished, and the only cook better than the Hogwarts elves is Molly Weasley. Shall we join the others?"

~ ~ ~

Christmas Day went by quickly, with presents and food, new practical jokes from the twins, quidditch talk, Molly pressing teeming plates of food upon them, pick-up quidditch games, more quidditch talk. Suddenly, it was midnight, no longer Christmas, and she and Ginny sat up for over an hour talking. Hermione finally turned off the light when Ginny started dozing off during her own sentences. 

She woke up early the next morning, pulled on her jeans and new Weasley sweater and gathered her things. Molly guilted her into eating breakfast with the rest of the family -- Harry and the twins had already left, Harry to go back to Romania and the twins to London -- but she was glad to stay, if only for a bit longer. She sat with Ron and Ginny, talked more about quidditch and agreed to go see the Chudley Cannons play this season, as long as Ginny supplied the tickets. 

Just a few minutes before nine, Arthur deposited his plate in the sink and kissed his wife and daughter goodbye, then left for the Ministry. Ron's chair scraped the floor as he pushed back, standing to take his plate to the sink, and Hermione followed him. 

"I need to get to the office as well," Ron said. "I've got paperwork to catch up on."

"Are you coming back tonight, dear?" Molly asked, her voice hopeful. 

"Mum, you know I stay in town during the week."

"But it's so silly, you throwing money away on rent for that dingy flat when you could apparate back and forth to work everyday just like your father does. Besides, I don't see how you can stand to live there, it's so -- so dark and depressing."

"Right, mum. I'll be over for dinner, but that's it," Ron said firmly. 

"I had better be going as well," Hermione said.

"Did you get everything, dear? If not, we can always owl it to you, or even send Ron out to Hogwarts in a pinch," Molly twittered as she came around the table to hug her. "You're always welcome here if you need a weekend away."

"Thanks, Molly."

She hugged all the Weasleys, waited as Ron kissed his mother goodbye, and they walked outside into the ankle-deep snow. 

"So everything's alright with Harry, then?" he asked.

"Alright. Got everything all sorted out."

"So he's really out in Romania?"

She nodded. "So it would seem." They stopped in the middle of the walk, facing each other. "So how's your arm doing?"

"My arm?" 

"You know, the crazy witch--"

Ron's eyes lit up as he remembered. "Oh, her, yeah. It's alright now, went away on its own after a month, didn't have to do anything really."

"That's good."

"But I am considering what you said about tattoos, though. I mean, how many wizards do you know with tattoos?"

"Not many," she answered with a wry smile. "But don't tell your mom. If you thought she didn't like Bill's earring…."

"Yeah, I guess you're right about that," he said, his face dropping, until he perked up, his eyes shining, "but then maybe she'd quit pestering me about moving home. You know, this could be one of your better ideas, 'Mione!" He grinned and hugged her. "Better get on to work, you know, the exciting life of being an auror."

"Yeah, rub it in," she said, rolling her eyes. "Be careful." 

He mockingly saluted her and disappeared. Closing her eyes, she smiled and apparated to the outskirts of Hogsmeade. She quickly set off to the castle, wishing that she had arranged for one of the carriages to pick her up.

Pushing through the great oak doors, she stopped in a moment of indecision. She wanted very much to see Severus, to try to talk to him, but she knew that he would still be angry with her, not that she blamed him. She started slowly towards the stairs, then she quickened the pace, veering off towards the dungeons. She told herself she would just check up on the potions, and if he was there, she could maybe try to talk to him and tell him what happened so that he could forgive her for hurting his feelings. 

Hermione wondered when she had started caring about Snape's feelings. She stopped outside the door to the laboratory, suddenly remembering how she used to loathed him, but over the months of working with him, she had grown to respect, even esteem, him. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door, but the room was dark and empty. 

She reached for her wand to light the candles in the room, when she noticed the faint glow of embers in the fireplace, but the room was warm, warmer than it should be for having no fire. As if he was here and left just before she arrived, extinguished the fire, as if he had never been there. 

She lit the candles then checked on the potions. Her Veritaserum was still under a stasis spell so that it would keep for her seventh years. She crossed to the mortalis fallax, surprised to see it bubbling a greenish-black. It had been bright yellow before they left. 

Hermione grabbed Severus's notebook from the table beside the potion, flipping through pages until she found what she wanted.

_26 Dec 9:29 am  
Added grd Egypt beetles, color is_

He was just here! How had he known she was on her way to the dungeons? He left mid-sentence, his precious notes left unfinished, just moments before she had opened the door, and her heart fell, recognizing finally that she had come here not for the potions, but for him.

She picked up the quill that had been dropped haphazardly on the table and bent over the notebook, pulling her hair back with her free hand..

_26 Dec 9:33 am  
Color is greenish-black, on schedule_

She set the quill down beside the notebook, leaving it open to the page.

~ ~ ~

Days later, Hermione still had yet to see Severus. He never came up from his dungeons for meals, never even left the dungeons according to the Marauder's Map. But he was avoiding her, she knew it. If he was in the laboratory working, he would be gone by the time she got there. She didn't know how he knew, but he wasn't being subtle about avoiding her.

She spent the days since her return going over her lesson plans for the spring term, spending a good deal of time on her fifth year classes to help prepare them for their O.W.L.S. Tired of working, she stretched her arms and looked out the window of her office, on the North side of the castle, which afforded only an unspectacular view of the edge of the Forbidden Forest, overshadowed by gray pillows of clouds that threatened more snow on that particular afternoon. 

Her thoughts turned to Severus for the millionth time and she scowled. He was acting like a child by avoiding her, as if not speaking to her would resolve anything, except make the eventual conflict worse. She desperately wished that Albus would magically drop by with his infinite wit and wisdom so that he could impart some piece of information that would help her understand everything.

It occurred to her that perhaps he had put a spell on the stairs to the dungeons that alerted him if she approached, but he would have to walk past her to get back to his office and his quarters. Unless there was another way, a shortcut she had not noticed before. She pulled the Map out of the top desk drawer and spread it open, tapping the parchment with her wand, whispering the words, and the entirety of Hogwarts appeared. She trained her eyes to the dungeons, a grim smile forming when the figure Severus Snape was moving from his quarters to the laboratory. 

She jumped up, grabbing her robes as she hurried out the door, double-checked the Map then shoved it in the pocket of her robes, hastening down the corridor. She slowed as she approached the second floor, since Filch's name had been lurking about on the Marauder's Map when she saw it last, and sure enough, Filch mopped at a great puddle of water surrounding the melting remnants of a snowman, complete with corncob pipe. 

To her own dismay, Hermione felt obligated to offer assistance, but Filch waved her on, mumbling under his breath about "unruly students" and "lack of discipline" and "real punishment," and she hid the grin, her pace quickening as she rounded the corner. She finally slowed when she reached the marble staircase and descended to the main floor.

She found Severus on the Map, still in the laboratory, and she started towards the stairs, eyes trained on him, slowly pulling her wand. She started down, watching the Map, each step slow and deliberate, so she could find out exactly where the spell was located, but she began to wonder if she was all wrong about there being a spell as she neared the dungeon floor. Suddenly, her foot touched the next to last step, and the tiny figure of Severus Snape jumped up and moved to the far wall and disappeared into -- the ground! At least, the ground according to the Map, but his name continued to bob along even though she couldn't see him. 

_Must've been a corridor Fred and George never found_, she mused. 

As quickly as he disappeared, he reappeared in his own quarters. She would have to ask someone about this, someone who knew the castle very well. Not Dumbledore, because she didn't want him to know more than he'd already figured out, nor Filch because he would tattle to Snape. She'd have to think about that one. 

She turned back to the second step, and pointed her wand around, her lips barely moving.

"_Comperio invisus._"

It took a moment, but she found it, a mirror that hung beside her, complete with enchantment. After a moment, she realized it would be very difficult to trick that spell to let her pass, as well as not alerting him to her tampering with his spell. She put away her wand and went back up the stairs, her brain already fashioning a plan. 

~ ~ ~

Hours later, Hermione had figured out her best course of action. A quick chat with Dobby had supplied information about the mysterious hallway in the dungeons, as well as the entrance to it from the kitchens. Returning upstairs, she had an idea, and she pulled a quill and a piece of parchment from her robes and scrawled a note. She hurried to the owlery, where she found a barn owl to deliver her message. 

She returned to the entrance to the dungeons, withdrawing her wand as she approached the second step. She murmured, her words echoing in the enclosed space. After she finished, she stepped back, pulling out the Map from her pocket to make sure Severus was in the laboratory. She had been unable to find a way to disable the spell he had placed, but she thought she could change just a bit without alerting him, or so she hoped. She would find out soon enough. 

She went to the kitchens, thanking the elves who greeted her with loaded plates while trying to explain she wasn't there for food. She went to a door on one side of the kitchens, opening the door to reveal a storeroom. Undaunted, she closed the door, tapped the knob three times with her wand, and opened it again, grinning as candles flickered to life, revealing a dank corridor, moss growing on the stone floor, the air languid and oppressive. 

Hermione cautiously shut the door behind her and turned to the left, towards the laboratory and his quarters, while she wondered what lay in the other direction. She would try to remember to chart this entire corridor later so that she could add it to the Map.

She eased down the hallway, stepping over the patches of moss cautiously. She slowed as she neared a door, the door to the lab, according to the Map, since her name floated beside the room. Severus was still there, reading by the fire, it would seem. 

_A week ago, I would have been in there, reading with him_. 

Her eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. She missed reading in silence with him, missed watching him move about the potions, his quick intellect offering her a challenge, his sharp wit and dry humor. 

_I miss … him_, she realized. _Gods, I miss Severus Snape. Harry and Ron will never speak to me, ever_.

She moved past the door, a bit angry for ever allowing herself to care for Snape. She glanced at her watch in the dim light and quickened her pace, rounding a corner and the heavy oak door that led to Snape's quarters. She watched on the Map as her plan came to fruition. 

~ ~ ~

Eleanor Fawcett trembled slightly as she walked down the staircases towards the dungeons, her long black robes dragged the floor and bore the emblem of Ravenclaw. Her short, eleven-year-old fingers twitched a piece of parchment and she looked at it again. 

_Ms. Fawcett, _

Please visit the dungeons this evening around 8:15 as I have a book on griffins I think you should like. I will be in the room past the potions classroom. If I am not there, the book is on the far right table.

Professor Granger

She quavered at the steps of the dungeons, praying that she wouldn't run into Professor Snape and have to explain her presence in his dungeons while he towered above her and glared. She, like so many students before her, truly feared the Potions Master. With a deep breath, she started down the stairs.

~ ~ ~

Severus sat in his chair by the fire, reading the latest potions journal. The mortalis fallax potion bubbled gently across the room, unconcerned with the events beginning to unfold. A small bronze bell sat on the table beside him, quiet, until it shot in the air and began jangling urgently.

Scowling, he silenced the bell and shoved it in his pocket. He didn't bother to extinguish the fire, since Hermione no doubt already knew what was happening. Still holding his journal, he moved to the bookshelf on the far wall and reached for the third book on the second shelf, the black spine so worn that the title could no longer be read. As soon as he touched the book, the bookshelf slid to the side and he walked out into the corridor. It was becoming quite tedious, always leaving when she came down to the dungeons, and occasionally caused disruption in the potion, though Hermione was astute enough to finish up whatever he might have been doing. 

It had been five days, nearly a week, since the incident at the Burrow, and Severus was growing tired of avoiding her, but neither was he ready to confront her and have to explain his reasons for exploding when she and Potter had returned from their little jaunt. He couldn't continue this once term started because it would be impossible to avoid her entirely. 

He sorted through the turmoil of emotions that ran through his head, frowning as he realized that in addition to anger, betrayal, and sadness, he had to add loneliness to the list. Even though he still harbored resentment towards her, he missed her too. 

He rounded the corner to his quarters and stopped short when he caught sight of Hermione leaning against the stone, her arms hanging at her sides, her face yellow from the soft candle light, and his mind shut down temporarily as he tried to process everything.

No matter the eventual outcome, Hermione would remember this as a triumph, if only for seeing Severus Snape truly flabbergasted and at loss for words. His mouth opened and closed, then his eyes narrowed and he finally recovered enough to snarl, his voice low and utterly dangerous, "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you." She crossed her arms and glared at him defiantly, refusing to be intimidated.

He matched her glare. Neither spoke for a time.

She finally broke from his stare, her eyes shifting to the wall beside him as she decided to attempt a neutral avenue. "Did you have any problems with the Belladonna?"

"Of course not."

"Of course not," she echoed with a touch of sarcasm, noting the flash in his eye. 

Again they stared in silence, a pair of hippogriffs circling each other warily, watching for an opening for attack. 

"Are you going to shun me until summer?" Hermione finally asked, but she didn't wait for his response. "Because if that's the case, then we should make a timetable for the lab so that every time I want to check on the potion, you don't have to run off to your quarters."

"Miss Granger, I do believe that might be your most brilliant idea ever," Severus spat.

"That's _Professor_ Granger!" she snapped, taking a step closer to him, her hands balling into fists at her side. "And if you don't like it, I'd like to hear your suggestion."

"On the contrary, I believe we should put your suggestion to use immediately."

"If I had realized that my presence was so galling to you," Hermione began slowly, never expecting that he would agree to her idea, in fact she had been hoping he would protest, "I never would have assisted you on the potion, from the beginning."

He leaned back against the cold stone wall behind him, crossing his arms against his chest, and he watched her. "It was never my wish that you assist me on the potion."

"Whose was it then? Dumbledore?" When he nodded, she hissed through gritted teeth, "I should have known! I should have known that you would never voluntarily ask for help, least of all from me! In that case, I shall no longer bother you."

She pushed past him, forcing back the tears that were threatening to burst free. Startled, he threw out a hand towards her shoulder, but she brushed it off and continued down the corridor.

"Professor," he called. "I will not chase after you, so if you wish to hear what I am about to say, please wait, Hermione." 

She hesitated, grudgingly stopping at the corner, then she half-turned to him. He moved towards her, his black eyes seeking hers, and he held her gaze as he crossed the corridor.

"It is true that it was not my wish for you to help with the potion. That idea belongs solely to Albus. However, in the months you have been assisting me, I have made more progress on the mortalis fallax potion than in the previous two years." He regarded her silently, and she studied the moss on the stone by her left foot. "Regardless of our personal feelings for one another, it is imperative that we continue to work on the potion, not separately, but together, because it is more efficient than passing notes to one another concerning ideas or results."

She glanced up at his face, surprised by the buried compliment in his statement. He must have recognized the surprise, for the corner of his mouth turned up briefly. 

"Okay," she mumbled. 

They stood in an awkward silence, the kind that follows a fight between new friends. Hermione's brown eyes watched him intently, and he looked away, shifted his weight. As if he was nervous, she thought.

Clearing his throat, Severus said, "The potions are alright for now. I believe I will retire for the evening with my journal. Goodnight."

"I'm sorry I left the Burrow and didn't tell you," she blurted as he turned towards his quarters. His brow furrowed and he stared at her. "I'm sorry I lost track of time and left you there waiting and worrying…. I let you down, I know I did."

She could see his face grow stony, could see him as he pulled away from her, his eyes distancing himself from her, but she refused to let him, and closed the distance between them, placing her hand on his arm.

"Severus, the last few days, I feel as if I've lost my best friend, but that's ridiculous, Ron and Harry are my best friends, and I'd never considered you as anything other than a complete and utter, well, bastard, but even still, I -- I miss talking to you and having intelligent conversations, and working with you and just … just sitting by the fire with you."

Her eyes pleaded with him, and he reeled in shock, trying to absorb what she had said, part of him unable to believe that she, or anyone for that matter, could have missed his company. He clenched his jaw and turned away, screwing his eyes shut. Why was she doing this now? He didn't want to think about it now, or ever, he wanted to go to his room and finish reading his damn journal by the fire, perhaps with a glass of whiskey as well, anything but think about her, and now she had guaranteed he would think of nothing else.

Watching him, Hermione realized that she was seeing the real Severus Snape, his mask had slipped and his face contorted as he wrestled his demons, and she understood the precariousness of the situation. She reached up hesitantly, her fingers caressing his cheek and he turned towards her, his eyes clouded, and she stretched up, on the tips of her toes as her fingers guided his face to hers, her heart thumping wildly, and their lips met shyly at first.

Severus continued to kiss her, even as his mind screamed that they were both in no condition emotionally to resort to physical pleasure, but then he realized he needed this just as much as she did, regardless of future consequences. It had been years since he had been with a woman, let alone a woman he desired, and for that moment, nothing else mattered.

His arms slid around her waist and pulled her to him, her mouth opening, and their tongues danced. His hands moved to the brass clasp that held together her robes, deftly unhooked it, then slid the robes off her shoulders, revealing a yellow v-neck sweater and jeans. She locked her hands behind his neck, drawing herself closer. 

Hermione tangled her fingers in his hair, surprised by its softness, and gasped when Severus moved his lips down to her jaw, working his way down to her neck, where he teased his way down to her collarbone. He gently nipped and she moaned, her fingers tightening in his hair. He trailed his lips along her collar and cupped her left breast, his fingers grazing the nipple, and she gasped and arched into him. 

"Severus!" she cried, her voice thick with desire. 

"I believe this is highly inappropriate, Professor. What if another teacher, or gods forbid, a student were to walk by and catch us?" he asked, his voice silk, eyes burning his hand slid under the sweater and found her nipple through the cotton bra, rolling it with his thumb. "That simply would not do."

"Then by all means," she said, pausing to try to catch her breath, "let's go somewhere else."

He captured her lips and ravished them as his other hand slid down to her ass and yanked her to him as he pushed her backwards, pinning her against the stone wall, and she could feel his erection pulsing through the layers of clothing. She slipped her hands inside his robes, slid one hand between them to cup him through his trousers. Severus gasped, kissing her roughly until he broke away. 

"_Accio!_" he barked, holding his hand out to catch Hermione's nearly forgotten robes as they sailed up from the floor. He turned back to her and offered his other hand to her, which she clasped on to like a life preserver. "Shall we?"

___  
A/N:

I feel terrible that I made you guys wait nearly two weeks for the new ch! A few parts of this one gave me problems, and they took longer to work out than normal. That and this is the longest chapter so far, and just took a long time to write. 

Upon further consideration, I have that Ch 20 will be lemon-free. I might come back and write a lemon later, if I post this fic on a more adult-friendly site. 

Please, please leave me a review! Not one review yet for this chapter, makes me worry…. 


	20. Chapter Twenty

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Twenty

Hermione lay in the near darkness, eyes open as she stared at the ceiling. Severus lay beside her on his stomach, asleep, and she watched as his back rose and fell with each breath. He had been asleep for a long time, how long she didn't know, but she thought it had to be after midnight. Hours after he lit it, the fire continued to burn, quietly crackling and popping, and filled the room with gentle light. Her eyes again turned to the ceiling.

Her thoughts tumbled around inside her head so much that she was having trouble keeping track of them. She wished she had a Pensieve to sort through them all. Perhaps she would go into Hogsmeade in the morning and purchase one. 

One thought recurred in her head more often than the rest: _What am I still doing here?_

But she had no answer, wasn't even sure if that referred to her present location in Snape's bed or just Hogwarts in general. Suddenly, she wanted to go straight to Dumbledore's office and tender her resignation and return to London and to being an auror and alone, but she wouldn't do that, she knew already, since teaching at Hogwarts _was_ her assignment as an auror. 

_I slept with Snape._

That was the second thought. As far as she could tell, there was no emotion accompanying the thought, not anger or disgust or anything, it was just a statement that had yet to take on meaning, and that truly worried her. 

Severus shifted in his sleep, turning his face to her. She rolled onto her side and gently brushed his long, black hair back from his face as she studied him. He looked younger when he wasn't frowning, she decided, maybe even handsome. 

It had been awhile since Hermione had been with a man, months before Hogwarts. She hadn't had a real relationship since leaving Hogwarts, not that she'd had a real relationship then either, certainly not that long-distance fling she'd had with Viktor Krum. She never really connected with men. Perhaps it was her intelligence, or lack of social skills, but she found dating terribly irksome. There were too many rules and civilities that she didn't understand. 

She rolled over and again watched shadows dance on the ceiling. She really needed to talk to someone now, but not Harry or Ron, they'd never understand, or Dumbledore, gods no, or any teacher for that matter, for she knew how gossip raged through the castle. Perhaps she could talk to Ginny. She could trust Ginny to be discreet. That's what she'd do, in the morning she'd owl Ginny and see if she could slip away for tea in Hogsmeade. She would buy a Pensieve and have tea and a talk with Ginny, and then she could sort out this entire business. 

With that decided, Hermione closed her eyes, forcing out all errant thoughts, and after a time, she slept.

~ ~ ~

Severus awoke with a start as he realized there was someone else in the bed, hand automatically reaching for his wand, when he remembered last night and relaxed, letting out a long breath. He had somewhat expected her to bolt in the middle of the night, half hoped she would. 

He had two cardinal rules when it came to women: he _always_ went home with her so that he could leave when he wanted, and he _never_ slept around at work. Last night he broke both of his rules, but it didn't bother him as much as he felt it should. He sat up quietly and looked at her, her peachy skin glowing in the firelight. Her frizzy curls surrounded her face and he had to hold himself back from brushing them away, instead rubbing his forehead. 

He sat up and pushed back the covers, yelping as the cold air assaulted his nude body. He grabbed his robe from the floor, disturbed from its usual spot on the foot of the bed, and reached for his slippers. He gently eased himself from the bed so as not to disturb Hermione, then went to the bathroom. 

Severus turned on the hot water in the shower, letting it run as he relieved himself. He stood before the mirror, running a hand through the shoulder-length black hair, scowling at the touch of gray at his temples. He felt really old this morning, especially when he considered that he had a twenty-three year old girl in his bed. Dropping his robes, he climbed into the shower and sighed as the hot water streamed over him. 

_Albus will have a field day when he finds out_, Severus thought grimly, imagining the old man shaking his hand and clapping him on the back, delighted that two of his protégés had found each other. He reached for the soap and started lathering, pushing the image from his mind. 

He didn't know what to do with her now. His entire life had been spent avoiding unnecessary relationships, which was why he started following those two rules in the first place. Suddenly, anger flooded him and he threw his fist against the stone wall, the sharp pain in his knuckles clearing the fog of his mind. 

_What the hell was I thinking?_ he berated himself. _I didn't think, and there in lies the problem._

The only way he could see out of this was to never speak to Hermione again. Which was out of the question, since it was imperative that they continue to work together on the potion, as he himself told her last night. 

_Perhaps she will be just as disconcerted as I. Perhaps she will say it was all a mistake and that will be the end of it._

He did not allow himself to dwell on it further as he rinsed. He exited the shower and grabbed a towel and started to dry himself roughly. He toweled off his black hair, scowling at his reflection in the mirror. He grabbed his robe and left the bathroom, moving quietly through the bedroom to his wardrobe where he removed his standard black suit, white shirt, and necessary undergarments. 

As he dressed, Severus watched Hermione as she continued to sleep. She lay on her back, her arms and legs sprawled across the bed, and he could see a foot emerging from the covers. He finished dressing and moved to the bed where he sat on the edge, observing her for a moment until she mumbled something and rolled over, facing away from him. He then stood and went to his living room, where he summoned a house elf for coffee and the morning's _Daily Prophet_.

Half an hour later, he was just finishing the paper when Hermione emerged from the bedroom, looking slightly bewildered, her brown hair wild. His breath caught in his chest and his black eyes held her brown ones for a long moment.

Severus finally murmured, "Good morning."

"Good morning," she said hesitantly as she stood by the door.

"Would you care for coffee?" he asked, gesturing to the steaming pot that sat on the table before him.

"No, thank you. I, uh, I'm not up for anything this morning. I should probably just head back and shower, you know." His eyes clouded as he watched her. "I'll be down later, I have to, um, go to Hogsmeade to do some shopping, but I shall be down later."

"Yes, you mentioned that."

"Right," she muttered, looking flustered. "Then I guess I'll be going." She started towards his quarters then hesitated and turned back. "Do you think I should go out the back, or …" she trailed off, breaking her gaze.

"I think it doubtful anyone should be in the dungeons at this hour," Severus answered, his eyes pinned on her, "but if you prefer, the kitchens will provide suitable cover for your exit."

She glanced up at him and he saw the surprise in her eyes. No doubt she expected him to encourage her to leave through the back way, but he knew her Gryffindor sensibilities would not let her sneak away in shame. And he was right. 

"No, no, that's not necessary. Besides, if I go through the kitchens the elves will overrun me."

"I should think they would remember your attempts to free them from servitude and flee," he said, the corner of his lip turning up. 

Hermione laughed. "Doesn't everyone have a bleeding-heart liberal phase?"

"I never did."

"Of course, everyone except Severus Snape," she said with a grin, which faded quickly. "Well, um, I guess I'll see you later."

He watched her leave, his black eyes betraying nothing, and he sighed, folding the newspaper and tossing it on the couch beside him. It seemed he had been right in thinking she would be just as confused as he. Deciding he'd rather work than sit about and brood, he went to the library to do some research.

~ ~ ~

Draco Malfoy slowed his steps as he approached the dark house. Pettigrew told him to be here at eight o'clock, and he was a few minutes early. His insides shuddered and shook, just as every time he was preparing to meet the Dark Lord, but outwardly, he showed nothing but haughty confidence, the Malfoy trademark. 

The front door swung open by itself as he approached, and he entered cautiously, peering around in the darkness. He withdrew his wand and light shot out of the tip, revealing a dusty entrance way with a cloudy mirror and a coat rack. He went down the hall to another dark room, a living room he guessed. White sheets hung on various pieces of furniture organized before a great, empty fireplace. He shivered, part from cold, part from nerves. 

He headed for the set of stairs off to the left. They creaked and moaned as he made his way up, still moving cautiously. As he neared the top, he heard a murmur of voices coming from a room at the end of the hallway, and a faint light emanated from around the edges. He took a deep breath and steeled himself as he reached for the doorknob, but it was already turning and Peter Pettigrew stood in the doorway.

"You were right, Master," he called over his shoulder as he opened the door for Draco, who quickly took in the room.

It was dim, the only light coming from the roaring fire. Dust covered the floor and the fireplace mantle, and the room contained more covered furniture. Voldemort watched him with red eyes from the only armchair, a green wingback. 

Draco approached quickly, dropping to his knees and kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes. 

"Draco," the cold voice purred as he stood.

"My Lord."

"Tell me, how are things progressing? Have you seen Potter?"

"I have not seen Potter since the last time I was in Romania, nearly two weeks ago. Rather I did find out some interesting information about Hermione Granger."

"That Mudblood bint!" Pettigrew exclaimed. "What use is she?"

Draco turned to the short, balding man and looked him over coldly. "Mudblood or not, Granger is a witch to be reckoned with. You surely haven't forgotten how many of our number she caught alone, or that she was involved in my father's murder."

"No one has forgotten Lucius's unfortunate death, and neither should we underestimate Granger," Voldemort said, bringing Draco's attention back. "Tell me, what did you find out?"

"You of course know that she was assigned to Hogwarts for the year. My sources say it was part of Potter's punishment, to separate them and send her to Hogwarts. Everyone at the Ministry knows she is unhappy with the assignment. However, she is now working with Snape on a potion of great importance, one that would defeat _Avada Kedavra_."

"Is that so?"

Draco nodded. "From what I could tell, they have made little progress, perhaps only enough to survive one hit from the curse." 

"That's reassuring," Pettigrew growled from the fireplace, drawing his finger through the dust and scowling. "How much longer until they get it up to two, or three, or even more?"

"That I do not know," Draco admitted. "If we were to perhaps get someone inside Hogwarts to steal a sample, I could work with it myself and see."

Voldemort nodded, his red eyes glinting. "Perhaps you could arrange an inspection yourself, Draco, and pay a visit to our old friend Severus."

"On what pretense?"

"Surely with your ingenuity you can find a reason to visit."

"I will start on that immediately, my Lord. It would be nice to have a little … _chat_ with Snape."

Voldemort smiled, a ghastly sight as his white skin stretched across his face, and his red eyes glowed. "Yes," he hissed, "as would I, my dear Draco, as would I. Perhaps I shall have my time with him soon. Very well, that is all. You are dismissed."

"My Lord," Draco said, again dropping to his knees to kiss his master's robes. He nodded tersely at Pettigrew then turned on his heel and left the room. 

It wasn't until he was well away from the house, having already apparated back to Berlin, that he stopped in a side street and wretched. He wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his black robe, then continued on to his flat.

__  
A/N:

What do ya know, it's a short chapter! I'm sorry, but I needed to take a break from the long ones. Plus I'm having trouble w/ direction at the moment. 

Well, Ch 19 was probably one of the worst received chapters I've posted … only 4 reviews. Any particular reason? Perhaps Ch 20 will redeem me. At least, I hope. 

As I've said before, if there's something just not right, PLEASE let me know. It's hard for me to keep everything in perspective since I'm in the middle of writing it, so I will be the first to admit I can't always see what's happening as an outside reader would, also since I know where I'm going with this (generally speaking). That being said, I do appreciate all of you who read, even those who never review. *arches left eyebrow menacingly*

One last thing … I know originally I said there'd be a lemon in this chapter, but I changed my mind. I apologize profusely to those who were hoping to get a Hermione/Snape sexfest, but I just didn't feel up to writing it. If I ever post this elsewhere that allows a NC-17 rating, it will DEFINITELY be updated to include said sexfest! 


	21. Chapter Twenty One

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Twenty One

Hermione did not go into Hogsmeade after all that day, neither to buy a Pensieve or to have tea with Ginny Weasley. When she talked to her by floo, Ginny was on her way out the door for practice and wouldn't be home until later in the afternoon. 

She took a long soak in her luxurious bathtub where she thought about Severus and what she was going to say to him later. She refused to avoid him, no matter how afraid she was to face him. She had faced worse, full grown Death Eaters as well as thirteen-year-old witches and wizards, so she could handle one Potions Master she had slept with during a momentary lack of judgment. 

_Ron'll kill me, then him. Harry'd probably just laugh, he'd find it funny, no doubt. _

She lay back into the warm bubbles, stretching her legs the length of the bath. She still couldn't believe it had happened, that she had gone to bed with Severus Snape, the greasy git who terrorized her as an eleven-year-old, who still scared her twelve years later, and she still had no idea what to say to him. 

_Well, I can't deny that I do like Severus, and enjoy his company,_ she decided, _but it was a mistake to sleep with him. Perhaps I'll tell him, in a tactful manner. But he might get mad. Or maybe he'll be relieved because I don't want a relationship with him. Merlin's beard!_

It was all too much to think about right now. Her fingers and toes shriveled into prunes, and she finally left the cooling water. She wrapped a towel around her hair and used another to dry herself off, before going back to her bedroom and changing into a pair of jeans and a dark green sweater and then pulling on her heavy cloak.

Hermione decided to go into London to visit with her parents, something she hadn't done in a long time. It wasn't that she disliked her parents, in fact, quite the opposite. But more and more it seemed they had nothing in common, aside from being related. Since it was New Year's Eve, her parents had taken the day off from their dental practice and the three of them went out for lunch. When the conversation dwindled, they said goodbye and Hermione went to Diagon Alley, where she visited Flourish & Blotts and purchased two books. Afterwards, she stopped by Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor where she ordered a large hot fudge sundae, which greatly improved her mood. 

She apparated to the outskirts of Hogsmeade and decided to face Severus sooner rather than later. Her mind raced as she walked the snow-covered path, her fists deep in her cloak, but she had not come up with anything by the time she reached the doors to the entrance hall and she took a deep breath before starting down the stairs into the dungeons. Each footfall echoed off the stones too loudly, and she became painfully self conscious as she walked down the long corridor. She faltered at the door, her resolve slipping.

_Come on, Granger, you can handle this._

She took another deep breath and turned the handle, her eyes scanning for him, found him in his usual chair, a thick book in his slender hands, and Severus looked up when the door clicked shut.

Hermione stopped breathing as their eyes met, a painful clutching at her heart forced her lungs to respire, and she managed a weak "Hi."

"Good afternoon," he allowed, his voice gentler than usual. "How was Hogsmeade?"

"Oh, I went to London." She started towards the other chair and said, "Visited my parents, then went by Flourish & Blotts instead."

His eyes followed her, dark and unreadable, as she sat down. 

"What did you purchase?"

She had already forgotten the titles and had to look at the books. "Um, _A New Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe_ --" he snorted unceremoniously "--and _Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration_."

"Planning on taking over Minerva's job, are you?" he drawled, a small smile evident on his face. 

"No, I just enjoy transfiguration still," she continued, not noticing the smile shifting to a smirk, "especially molecular transfiguration with regard to physics."

"How fascinating."

"Well, you asked." He harrumphed and returned to his book. After a few moments, she asked, "Did you accomplish anything today?"

"I spent several hours in the library, searching the Restricted Section for applications on St. John's Wort. However, I failed to find anything worthwhile."

"That's an interesting thought, actually. Perhaps I'll take a look around later," she said and he nodded. "How close is the next potion to testing?"

"Not until after classes start, the second Tuesday I believe."

"Damn. I want to take a batch and add an infusion of mandrake juice."

"I have considered that myself," Severus said, not looking up from his book, "but I have doubts as to the effectiveness."

"Until we try it, there will be doubts. Besides, I will only need one dosage of it."

"Very well."

A silence fell between them, and Hermione fidgeted with her books as she sat there, stealing occasional glances at him. He was engrossed in reading and did not notice her. She certainly had not expected him to be so conversational, and briefly considered bringing up the subject of last night and just as quickly dismissed it.

She went to check on the mortalis fallax, all four cauldrons. While they had been working separately in the laboratory, each had begun their own cauldrons with which to experiment. She glanced into his cauldron, noted the reddish-orange state and picked up his notes. 

"Severus, is this supposed to be orange?" 

"What?" he barked, his eyes jumping to the cauldron before her. 

"I don't think it should be this color, considering the tarantula eggs you just added today."

He leapt from his chair and strode across the room, his eyes blazing when he saw she was right, that something had corrupted his potion. He glared at the cauldron and Hermione recognized that look, for she had been on the receiving end more times than she cared to remember. He spun on his heel, robes flapping out and he stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him. 

Hermione stared after him, then shrugged and went to her own potion which was a dark green and bubbled happily. She glanced down at her notes and saw that it was time to add the ground beetles. She reached for the bowl and measured out the precise amount, then stirred it in, pleased when blue swirls appeared.

The door flew open as Severus returned, holding a small vial. He went to his cauldron and poured in two drops of the clear liquid, his face losing all color when the potion hissed and spat.

"Fuck!" 

"What happened?" she asked cautiously from across the room.

He ignored her, instead pulling his wand and muttering a cooling charm before seizing the cauldron and heaving it violently into the sink behind him, the now ruined potion sloshing out onto the counters and splattering on the floor. 

"Do you feel better now?" Hermione asked, as she walked up to him. "Now that you've made a mess?"

He scowled at her, pulled out his wand and crouched down, muttering, "_Detergeo_." Blue light shot out of the tip and the orange potion disappeared. He repeated the process on the counters and turned to her, his voice sharp. "Happy?"

"Going to tell me what happened?" she asked.

"I corrupted the potion and it was no longer any use."

"Thanks, I surmised as much. What was the contaminant?"

"It was -- I nicked my thumb while slicing the caterpillars and did not realize my blood contaminated them until after they were already added." He did not look at her as he spoke, and she was surprised that he would tell her any of this. "There was no immediate reaction so I thought perhaps it was a trivial amount and nothing would come of it."

"The blood must have reacted with the eggs, but not with anything else. I wonder why," she mused and Severus glanced at her, surprised that she did not berate him for the mistake. 

He cleared his throat, as well as the expression from his face. "That is curious, but I do not think it is of any consequence. I shall have to restart the potion."

"Accidents happen. It's alright."

"No it's not, it's waste of time and ingredients."

"The school pays for the ingredients, and you have more time." He scowled and she smiled, her voice playful as she added, "It's not as if you have a New Year's Eve party to go to." 

His scowl deepened and he strode over to the ingredients table. "I suppose you do," he sneered.

"Well, Anne did invite me to join her and Vasily and some of her friends at the Three Broomsticks. I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you wanted to join me."

He gave her a withering stare from across the room. "Thank you, but no. I am not interested in getting drunk with complete strangers."

"Then how about a drink with me? Later?" she asked, staring down at her hands. After a long silence, she looked up at his hunched shoulders and thought he wasn't going to answer her. 

"Yes," he said to the knife and caterpillars on the table before him. "I will have a drink with you."

"Good. Then I will go to Hogsmeade with Anne, then return here before midnight."

He did not say anything as he concentrated on his sliced caterpillars, and Hermione realized Ginny would be at home and she could talk to her via floo. She excused herself and made her way to her office upstairs. 

Hermione tossed a pinch of floo powder into the fireplace and stuck her head in when the flames roared green. "Twenty-one Wellington Park," she said, squeezing her eyes shut as fireplaces began to spin before her. 

When the movement stopped, she opened her eyes to a quaint living room with an emerald green sofa and a mahogany table before it. A large bouquet of red roses filled a crystal vase on the table.

"Ginny?" 

"That you, Hermione?" came a muffled cry from the left, and suddenly Ginny Weasley burst into view, and she perched on the edge of the table. "'Mione! How are you?"

"Oh, could be worse. How are you? And who sent you the gorgeous roses?"

Ginny blushed, her cheeks burning. "Well, they're from Neville."

"Neville?" Hermione practically squealed. "You never mentioned anything about Neville!"

"Well, we just started going out and I didn't want to jinx it or anything," Ginny said with a grin. "Oh Hermione, he's so wonderful. I can't believe I never really looked at him when we were at Hogwarts."

"That's so great, Ginny! I always knew he had a crush on you."

"You did? Why didn't you tell me?!"

Hermione grinned, saying, "You were too worried over Harry back then."

"Probably," she said. "Oh, before I forget, I'll be starting my first match with the Cannons. It's the second Thursday in February, and Harry and Ron are going to be there. You'll need to invite Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, of course." 

"I wouldn't miss it! And neither would Albus or Minerva, I'm sure."

"So what did you want to talk about?" Ginny asked, and Hermione remembered why she had called in the beginning. "You seemed a bit frazzled this morning."

"I would say I was a lot frazzled actually." Ginny's eyebrows perked and Hermione sighed. "Ginny, you've got to promise not to repeat this to Harry or Ron, or I'll kill the lot of you."

"'Course, you can trust me."

She took a deep breath then the words ran out before she could grab hold of them. "I slept with Snape last night."

"Hermione Granger!" Ginny gasped, the look on her face a mixture of horror and disbelief. "Tell me you're joking, that this is a terrible joke!"

She shook her head and looked at the wood floor before her. "I guess it's as bad as I thought it was."

"Well, are you going to tell me what happened?" she asked, her voice a tad impatient. "It might not be _that_ bad."

"Thanks, Gin, but I don't believe you. Well, I kissed him --" she ignored Ginny's look "-- the day before we came to the Burrow. I was upset, I shouldn't have done it, and we pretty much ignored it. After I disappeared with Harry, he was angry, really mad at me."

"Trust me, we noticed."

"He avoided me for nearly a week until I confronted him last night, and we argued and made up and I kissed him again and then I spent the night."

"And what happened today? Have you talked to him?"

"I left this morning, didn't really talk to him then, but I just spent some time with him in the lab and everything seemed to be back to normal."

"He seemed normal?"

Hermione thought for a moment before answering, "Well, he did seem nicer than usual, even though he threw a tantrum over a ruined potion. And we're going to have a drink for New Year's Eve."

"A drink? Hermione Granger, are you trying to sleep with him again?"

"No!" she cried, looking sharply at her friend. "Why would I?"

"Well, you don't seem as horrified as I would hope for having just slept with such a greasy git.… Do you like him?" Hermione chewed her bottom lip and didn't answer. "You do like him then."

"He's so smart, Ginny. And he's got a sharp wit, too, and --"

"And he's an utter bastard who enjoys tormenting children," Ginny retorted. "Don't forget that."

"He's different once you get to know him."

"If you say so, Hermione," she said, the look in her eyes revealing she didn't fully believe her. "I think you need to be careful with Snape, I really do."

"You're right, I know."

They sat in silence for a moment until Ginny's eyes sparkled and she asked, "So, how was it?"

Hermione turned a hundred shades of red and sputtered, "What?"

"Oh, come on, 'Mione!" An evil grin spread across her face as she continued, "You can't drop that bombshell on me and not expect me to find out just how good Snape is in the sack!"

"He was good, really good," Hermione admitted finally, her cheeks still pink. 

Sighing, Ginny said, "Well, if you sleep with him again, I guess you can bring him to the game."

~ ~ ~

Draco smirked as he neared the Hogwarts gates, glancing back at Archibald Bole, one of his contacts at the Ministry. It was Bole who had arranged this last-minute Hogwarts inspection on New Year's Eve. He was actually looking forward to this confrontation with Snape, as well as seeing Granger, to see how the memory charm was holding. 

He ran a hand through his white blonde hair as he approached the steps to the great oak doors. He was dressed smartly today, his long black cloak over a pair of khaki slacks, and a dark green v-neck with an open white collar underneath. He thanked Merlin again that he did not have Lucius's sense of style with the high-necked collars and suits. Regardless of their magical limitations, Muggles did have better fashion, he was not afraid to admit. 

He threw open the doors, Bole not far behind, and he strolled into the castle, pulling himself up to his full height as Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall descended the stairs in front of him.

"Professor Dumbledore, how lovely to see you," he drawled, a smile turning up the corner of his mouth as he stopped to greet them. "And Professor McGonagall as well, what a nice surprise."

"Draco," the old man said, lowering his nose and staring over his lenses at Draco while McGonagall hovered over his shoulder. "I must say I am not surprised to see you here."

"Professor Dumbledore, I am Archibald Bole, the Ministry's Chief Nutrition Inspector," Bole introduced himself. "I believe you were informed of this visit."

"Of course, Mister Bole, I received your owl only moments ago." 

Dumbledore nodded at McGonagall as he guided the other man towards the kitchens. Draco smirked at her and turned to the dungeons, calling out to her over his shoulder.

"As lovely as it has been to see you, Professor, I do think I will pay my old Head of House a visit, if you don't mind."

"Not at all, Malfoy. In fact, I think I shall accompany you, in case you get lost on your way," she responded, smiling benignly at him. 

He had expected an escort while he was in the school, so he was not perturbed by her decision and he continued on with McGonagall close behind. 

It was eerie how familiar it all seemed, though he had not been back to the dungeons since graduation. He stopped first at Snape's classroom, but it was empty, and the office beyond was dark. He continued down the corridor to the old converted classroom, where Draco had received innumerable hours of after-school lessons from Snape, on dark potions and more advanced work than the other N.E.W.T. Level Potions students, lessons that he was now passing on to Harry Potter. 

He opened the door, letting it swing back against the stone wall with a thud, and Hermione leapt up from her chair by the fire. 

"Malfoy!" she exclaimed. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Oh, just a routine nutrition inspection, nothing extraordinary," he drawled, his cold eyes surveying the room, taking mental stock of everything he saw. "Having a lovely New Year's Eve, Granger?"

She ignored him as she crossed the room to stand between him and the potions. 

"Hermione, I'm going to find Severus," McGonagall called from the doorway. 

"What a pleasant idea. We can just have a little New Year's Eve get-together down here in the dungeons."

Draco circled, a vulture watching over his prey, just barely out of reach, and Hermione stayed with him, not allowing him a moment with any of the information. He turned to another table and stopped at Severus's notebook which lay open to the latest test results with the mortals fallax, his finger grazing the paper.

"_Accio_!" she shouted, easily grabbing the book as it sailed to her. 

"Working on unregistered potions, are we? Is the Ministry aware of your … experiments here?"

"Why don't you ask your cronies in the Ministry, Malfoy?" Hermione snarled. "Isn't that what you pay them for?"

"Temper, temper, Granger," he shushed her and smiled. "I'm just curious, nothing more. I am rather surprised that you would work with Snape at all."

She didn't say anything, simply glared. Draco twitched his wand behind his back and a cauldron exploded across the room.

"Shit!" Hermione exclaimed and rushed over, not seeing Draco swiftly withdraw a vial and dip it into the cauldron before him. He then capped the vial and returned it and his wand back into an inner pocket of his cloak.

He sauntered over to her and drawled, "You should be more careful with your potions."

The door slammed open and Severus stormed in, his robes flaring behind him, with Minerva at his heels. Draco turned, a nasty smile spreading across his pale features and he crossed the room to face Severus. Hermione jumped up from the cauldron on the floor and stood off to Draco's side.

"Ahh, Professor Snape. How good it is to see you looking so … _well_."

"Malfoy," he purred in reply, and Hermione recognized the danger in his voice. He was just as angry about Draco's sudden appearance as she. "To what do I owe this unexpected … misfortune?"

"I'm just here with Archibald Bole, you remember him surely, and I thought it would be nice to visit my dear Head of House and reminisce about the good old days at Hogwarts." His gray eyes narrowed and his mouth curved up. "And my father Lucius. Surely you haven't forgotten him."

"Of course not, Draco. I don't think I shall ever forget your father." His lips pursed slightly before a slow, vicious smile drew his lips into a tight line. "Or the feel of his neck snapping in my hands. I only wish he hadn't died so quickly."

Draco snarled, his hand diving into his cloak for his wand, but Hermione was quicker, her wand at his throat while he was beginning to reach for Snape. She glanced over and saw McGonagall's wand pointed at him as well.

"I don't think so, Malfoy," Hermione hissed. "I believe it's time you were going."

With a look of pure venom, Draco started to the door, eyes tearing into Severus and Minerva in turn as he passed. They followed him back to the Great Hall, where Dumbledore was chatting pleasantly with Bole. 

"Thank you again for the visit," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling at Draco. "I trust you found everything in order."

"Yes, of course," the Ministry man answered. "I expected nothing less from your competent house elves. Mister Malfoy, is there anything else?"

"No, I am finished here," he spat, a look of disgust on his face as he stared at Dumbledore, then he turned on his heel and marched out the front doors, the inspector saying a hurried goodbye and following him.

The remaining four watched them leave and said nothing for a moment.

"He was very interested in the potion," Hermione said at last. 

"I should think he would be," Dumbledore murmured. "Two brilliant potions minds working in collusion on a secret potion. As a matter of fact, I am surprised that Mister Malfoy has not visited us sooner."

"No doubt Voldemort will be apprised within hours," Severus said, his brow furrowed as he stared at the front door.

"Merlin, I hate when you do that," McGonagall exclaimed.

"Do what?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"You know exactly what," she retorted. "Some of us are still not used to hearing his name."

Dumbledore cleared his throat and all eyes turned to him as he looked from Severus to Hermione. "I presume you both realize that efforts must be speeded up on the potion. Time is now of the essence." Both nodded. "Perhaps it would be useful to lighten your course loads." 

"And who would you have teach my classes?" Severus snarled with a ferocity that surprised Hermione, given that she had always thought he despised teaching and resented his students for taking him away from time with his potions. 

"Myself, of course," Dumbledore replied, eyes twinkling.

"No! I have told you before, you are not allowed in _my dungeons_! There is no one in this school competent enough to teach even the first years!" 

"Calm yourself, Severus, it was only a suggestion." His blue eyes moved back to Hermione, a smile twitching under his white beard. "And do you feel so possessively about your classes, Professor Granger?"

Hermione smothered a laugh as she chanced a look at Severus. He scowled back at her, then at McGonagall, who merely shrugged.

"No, I don't. Nearly anyone could teach the first- and second-years, I believe." 

"Would you be offended by my teaching those classes?" he asked, his eyes twinkling again, and he ignored the daggers Severus's black eyes threw at him. 

"Of course not, Headmaster," she said. "It would be helpful to have those few hours more to work on the potion."

"Very good. We shall discuss this further before the term begins."

"If that is all, I must return to the dungeons to determine what Malfoy might have seen."

"Severus, wait. I need to talk with all three of you about something," Hermione said, and Dumbledore and McGonagall exchanged quizzical looks when he grudgingly returned. "I spoke with Ginny Weasley this afternoon, and she has invited the four of us to her next quidditch match in February."

"How exciting!" McGonagall exclaimed. "Of course we'll go!"

"Speak for yourself." Severus sneered, "I have no interest in seeing such an awful team, simply on account of a Weasley."

"Harry and Ron will be there as well," Hermione added.

"That settles it. I will undoubtedly not attend."

"That is so unfair!" she said as she turned to him, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "You should stop acting like such a child about my friends!"

Severus bristled visibly and his voice lowered as he glared at her as he argued back, "Your friends need to learn to act like adults instead of teenagers all the time!"

"Maybe if you wouldn't taunt them even now, they might be nicer to you!"

Dumbledore watched with a broad smile as they bickered, noticed that Severus treated her more gently than he did anyone else, if only just. His eyes met McGonagall's and they shared a look of amusement, then cleared his throat and Severus and Hermione finally quieted down.

"Severus, I believe it would be a good experience for you. I must request your attendance to Miss Weasley's quidditch match."

"Request or require?" he hissed, his look of hatred one that would scare even the bravest of souls.

Dumbledore didn't answer, just smiled at him and turned to McGonagall. "Well Minerva, shall we go finish our tea?"

~ ~ ~

Hermione went to the Three Broomsticks with Vasily and Anne, and they met six or seven other witches and wizards from Hogsmeade and London and she drank until she realized it was well after eleven. She excused herself, enduring teasing from the group since she was leaving before midnight, but she did not offer her reasons for going.

She hurried back to Hogwarts, her coat wrapped around tight, focusing her attention on the path and staying upright. One heel wedged itself between two stones and she teetered for a long second until it came loose and she only trotted forward a few steps before she regained her balance. The two glasses of firewhiskey were kicking in now that she was up and moving. 

Finally she made it to the castle, heels slipping a bit as she crossed the entrance hall, so she stopped and took them off. She continued to the dungeons, her footsteps muffled as she made her way to the lab as she held her shoes. She opened the door to an empty room, and her shoulders drooped until she spied a piece of parchment in her chair.

"_Accio_," she called impatiently and the folded note jumped to her waiting hand and she opened it.

_If you are still up for the drink, please join me in my quarters. Use the faded black book on the second shelf._

She turned immediately to the bookshelves and spotted that particular book. She had not really noticed the book before, and she wondered if there was a spell on it to reflect unwanted attention. She would have to ask Severus. She reached out hesitantly, then ran a finger down the book's worn spine, stepping back when the shelves began to slide open. 

She walked out into the corridor and turned left, towards his quarters. She stopped at his door, taking a deep breath, steeling herself. 

_I'm not going to sleep with him again. I won't. I can't._

She knocked on the heavy wood, gently at first, and then louder when there was no reply. She reached down to twist the knob but the door swung open.

"Hi," she said, her throat suddenly going dry at the sight of him, standing in his white shirt and black pants, his pale chest peaking through the top few buttons that lay open, the formal suit coat he normally wore strewn carelessly on a chair. When he cocked an eyebrow as he saw she was carrying her shoes rather than wear them, Hermione grinned shyly.

"Good evening."

"Sorry I'm so late, I lost track of time."

"The thought crossed my mind that you were going to stay in Hogsmeade with your … friends." His eyes were dark like shimmering coals and her stomach jerked. 

"I know, I meant to leave before eleven." She smiled and raised an eyebrow hopefully and said, "But it's still a few minutes 'til midnight, if you still want to have that drink."

Severus stood aside wordlessly and allowed her to enter, followed her to the sofa where she perched, watching the fire that flickered in the fireplace. He sat on the couch near her, she could feel his eyes still burning into her before he turned to the bottle of scotch and two glasses on the table before them, pouring a generous amount in each.

She took her drink with thanks, and they raised glasses.

"To what's left of the holidays and no students," she toasted, catching a fleeting grin cross his features.

"I can drink to that."

Hermione took a mouthful, letting the liquid roll around on her tongue before letting it burn its way down her throat, then took another drink. She felt the alcohol tear through her blood and her fingers and toes tingled. 

"I wish you would have come with us tonight," she said. "You might have enjoyed yourself."

He laughed once, an abrupt, humorless sound. "I would have expected you, with your razor sharp intellect and keen auror instincts, to notice my aversion to social gatherings long before now. I am disappointed in you, Hermione."

At the sound of her own name, her eyes flitted to his and she was surprised by the smug smile on his face. She allowed a half a smile before turning her attention back to her glass and she took another drink, her head buzzing. The clock on the mantle chimed midnight and she turned to him.

"Happy New Year's," Hermione said, facing him on the couch. 

Severus was watching her, had been for some time, his black eyes intense, and his arm slid along the back of the couch as he scooted across the leather towards her. 

"I believe a kiss is customary," he murmured, his voice silky, "to welcome in the new year."

She couldn't help but nod though she was tongue-tied as his eyes locked with hers and he leaned in, his lips brushed hers and his hand wound itself in her hair, easing her towards him. The kiss deepened and she threw her arms around his neck and twisted her fingers into his hair. She could taste the scotch on his tongue and her head spun as his free hand glided up her back.

Through the haze in her head, Hermione remembered her earlier promise to herself and pulled away from his lips. His eyes questioned her as she extracted herself from him. 

"I think I need to go lay down. I'm not feeling too well," she added when the look in his eyes turned skeptical. "I'm sorry."

"Would you like me to escort you back?" he asked, a note of concern in his voice.

"No, I can make it alright, but thanks. And thank you for the drink."

His eyes turned cloudy as he moved back to the corner of the sofa. "Of course."

She left with a soft "Good night" and he heard the door click after her. He downed the last of his scotch and poured another generous glass. 

_It's better that she left. Sleeping with Granger was a mistake I should not repeat._

The thought kept running through his mind as he took a drink before the crackling fire. Perhaps if he continued to repeat the thought, he would start to believe it. 

___  
A/N: 

Hey look! It's only 10 days after the last update! And it's even longer than the longest chapter before! The next couple of chapters are all congealing in my head, so hopefully can get it up to one chapter a week for the next few weeks. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews … they helped me recover my confidence, which had wavered after Ch 19.

Katie, the chemistry kid, thanks for the criticism! To be honest with you, I absolutely _loathe_ chemistry. In fact, the only reason I got an A in that class was because my dad was my teacher and I had a 24 hr tutor! But then I forgot most of it after that year. I reworded it a tad, so hopefully it will be satisfactory!

Again, don't forget you can turn on author alerts from the menu at the bottom if you want to know when the next chapter comes out, or you can leave me your email and I'll add you to the list. 


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Twenty Two

Draco scowled as he crossed the snow-covered courtyard, adjusting his mask as he walked. He hated coming to these things, these festivals of mass perversion. While he might enjoy the power he wielded as a Death Eater, there were also parts he despised. 

_Unlike Lucius_, he mused, grimly aware that under different circumstances, Lucius would be here instead of him. Not that he would take back that monster's death, in fact wished he could thank Snape for it.

Voldemort would be pleased with him today, for he had accomplished much on his visit to Hogwarts. The sample of potion was still at the flat being tested and analyzed. 

He frowned as he saw a family of Muggles being dragged through the snow, the middle-aged wife and teenage daughter both screaming in an unknown language as a masked wizard subjected the father to crucio, then knocked out both women with a spell each. He felt the bile rise in his stomach as another Death Eater leaned over the girl and groped her roughly. 

Voldemort was back in Russia, at Dmitri Borodin's massive estate, where Lucius had been murdered. He entered through the ornate wood doors that opened into a grand hall. A large marble statue of a unicorn stood proudly in the center of the room, and two Death Eaters stood off to the side.

Draco recognized Wormtail by his voice as he talked to another masked wizard. Pettigrew caught his eye and motioned to the set of doors behind him. He nodded and went to the doors.

He opened the door slowly and entered a long dining room. The dark wood table stretched the length of the room and could easily dine thirty people. At the far end of the room, Lord Voldemort sat at the head of the table, holding court with six Death Eaters seated around him. His eyes of ruby watched Draco as he walked the length of the room.

"Draco," he hissed, his pink tongue darting out to lick his pale, thin lips.

"My Lord."

Draco took off his mask as he approached the end of the table, dropped to his knees to kiss the hem of Voldemort's robes then moved to an empty chair. Moments later, Pettigrew walked in, closing the door behind him. He sat down opposite Draco and removed his mask.

"Now that everyone is present, I would like Draco to begin with his recent visit to Hogwarts."

"The outer defenses are as strong as we've imagined, though I do believe an aerial attack using broomsticks alongside a ground attack would catch Dumbledore by surprise."

"Yes, we are working on a plan of attack even now," Voldemort said with a cackle and a look to the wizard sitting to his immediate left, who inclined his head. "You may continue."

"While Bole had Dumbledore off on his nutrition inspection, I went down to the dungeons and snuck out a sample of the so-called miracle potion that Snape and the Mudblood are working on. I am analyzing it and determining ingredients first, so that I might replicate it. So far it is taking much longer than expected due to the complexity of the potion."

The red eyes met his and he held back a shiver. "I trust you are working at top speed, Mister Malfoy," his ice cold voice grating on Draco's skin. 

"Of course, my Lord. I did find out that Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore will both be attending a quidditch match in February, as well as our old friend Severus Snape. I believe it would be a perfect opportunity to strike at them."

"Then you should be the one to plan it, Malfoy," Pettigrew sneered from across the table.

"I would, _Wormtail_," Draco said, his voice slick, "but I am working on deciphering this potion. Not to mention that being involved in an attack on Potter and Dumbledore would damage my reputation at the Ministry."

"Surely the Malfoy name still carries weight there," he said, his beady eyes trained steadily on Draco's grey ones. 

"I cannot deny that I do not wield the same power that my father did, but neither could he have survived with his credibility intact after an attack on Potter if he were part of it."

"You are right, of course, Draco," Voldemort purred, his eyes sliding from Draco to Pettigrew. "My dear Wormtail, I shall leave you in charge of planning this attack. I want Severus Snape dead as well as anyone who dares to protect him."

Pettigrew scowled, his eyes as black as two tiny pinholes as he glared at Draco, then muttered, the pinpricks never leaving Draco's face, "Yes, my Lord, right away."

"Ingrid, how are we progressing in Poland and the Czech Republic?" The red eyes slithered on to a blonde witch and Draco settled back into his chair, continuing to ignore Pettigrew's peevish glare.

~ ~ ~

Things returned to normal, or at least a passable facsimile for two grown-ups who had slept together and had to continue working together productively. In an unspoken agreement, they both acted as if nothing had ever happened, though Severus had become increasingly irritable each day. All the teachers noticed. Whispers passed in the teachers' lounge and in the hallways in the days leading up to the start of term, but no one knew what had passed over the Christmas holidays. 

Hermione met with Dumbledore on the last Friday of the break to go over her plans for the first- and second-year classes that he would be teaching to allow her more time working on the mortalis fallax potion. She had also double-checked the lesson plans for her other classes. 

Sunday before start of term came, and the quiet was replaced with a constant hum of students moving throughout the halls. Hermione spent most of the day alone in the dungeons, a place most students and teachers avoided, and she saw Severus only a few times. The rest of the her day was spent before her cozy fire as she did a bit of light reading on molecular transfiguration.

After curfew, she walked the corridors, watching for students out of bed, since it was her assigned week. She was not particularly happy about it, and for once she understood why teachers were so much more vindictive whenever she, Harry and Ron had been caught after curfew. 

Halfway through her four hour patrol, she ran into two seventh-year Gryffindors sneaking back to the tower. Gordon Graham and Edana Ross. They had been second-years her last year at Hogwarts, but she only knew their names, nothing further.

"Miss Ross, Mister Graham, I trust you have a good reason for being out past curfew," Hermione said, her eyebrow arching, and Ross at least had the decency to look away abashed though Graham stared at her defiantly, just like Harry and Ron would have tried to stare down Snape. 

"We were in the library studying." When Hermione's mouth lifted into a sardonic smile, he rushed, "We were just on our way back to the common room!"

"You must be taking the long way around then, Mister Graham. That will be five points each from Gryffindor for being out after curfew."

"C'mon, Professor Granger, you're Gryffindor so why don't you cut us some slack? McGonagall's been riding us enough as it is since we're behind Slytherin!"

"I'll tell you what, Mister Graham, you turn around straight away and go back to Gryffindor Tower and I'll only take ten points each and I won't mention this to Professor McGonagall."

The girl grabbed him by the arm and started yanking him away, her grip strong enough to pull the beak off a toucan, hissing all the while, "We haven't even been back a full day and you've already cost us points, Gordon!"

Graham glared at Hermione as he walked backwards, before he spun around and tugged his arm free from Ross. She watched them round the corner towards the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Always the Gryffindor," a silky voice floated past her and Severus stepped out of the shadows. "How touching."

Startled by his sudden appearance, Hermione frowned and crossed her arms. "Unlike a certain unnamed Head of House who allows his own students to get away with murder."

"We do have quite different ideals, you realize." His black eyes burned into hers and she wondered if there was a subtext to the conversation that she hadn't yet caught. 

"What are you doing here anyway? I thought Hooch was patrolling tonight."

"Yes. She is in the hospital wing, suffering from a strain of flu that seems to be resisting Pomfrey's best Pepper Up."

"Oh. Don't you have anything --"

"I am not a pharmacy, Professor!" he snarled. "I do not simply stock potions in the event that someone will need them."

"Calm down, I was just asking," Hermione muttered, eyeing him. 

This wasn't the first time he had snapped at her today. There had been a tense moment earlier in the dungeons regarding the mortalis fallax and the correct temperature needed to keep the dragon's blood from congealing and ruining the potion. 

She wondered how long they could continue to work together under these conditions. He had been cold and distant ever since New Year's Eve. She considered talking to Dumbledore, though she couldn't imagine what she would say to him.

_Ever since Snape and I fucked over Christmas holidays, things just haven't been the same between us._

A rueful smile lifted her lips and caused Severus to scowl heavily.

"I would advise you to stay upstairs tonight," he growled, his voice low, and he stalked away, robes billowing.

She frowned after him, wondering if he was talking about patrolling the halls or telling her to stay out of the dungeons. 

_Fine, I'll do both._

~ ~ ~

Albus Dumbledore ambled through the corridors of the old castle, benignly smiling and greeting the students, teachers and ghosts he passed along the way, his emerald green robes swishing quietly as he walked. He took his time, allowing his thoughts to group and rearrange themselves as they had begun doing many years ago, when he was still just a child, and some of the ideas that came from such thought realignment still surprised him. In fact, he still believed his little trick with the Mirror of Erised and the Philosopher's Stone was the most brilliant idea he could ever have.

At this moment, however, Albus was quite concerned with his Potions Master. Severus had not been himself since term had started, and anyone who came within fifteen yards of him could attest to the man's sudden and boundless anger. He lashed out at anyone without provocation, even dear Poppy, who had only tried to get Severus to take a sleeping draft. He assigned rolls and rolls of parchment to every class, and failed nearly every single paper, even most of the Slytherins. Through it all, Albus attempted to refrain from going to the younger wizard, to allow him time to work things out on his own. But when he heard that Severus had taken points from Slytherin house during a double potions with Gryffindor, Albus knew he could no longer ignore the situation.

Minerva had apprised him of the rumor going around that something happened between Severus and Hermione over the holidays, but no one truly believed this likely, except for Minerva, but she assured Albus that she never breathed a word. Albus had had his own suspicions for some time, and he told Minerva as much. In fact, he was relatively certain he knew what had happened between them. 

He smiled to himself, enjoying the thought that people believed him to be omniscient, when he just had a sharp mind and paid attention to even the most trivial detail, although that misguided belief did give him many benefits.

He nodded to a pair of Slytherins he passed on his way through the dungeons and he went straight through the empty classroom to Severus's office, which was dark. He went to the far corner of the office, behind the desk, slowing as something tugged at the back of his mind, something he couldn't quite place, just something he had forgotten in his office, and he smiled.

Severus must have changed the aversion spell … it was stronger than the last time he was down here. He closed his eyes and let his mind quiet, and, as soon as he opened them, he saw the door that had been there all along. He rapped lightly, his knuckles brushing against the wood, and again when there was no answer to his first knock.

"Severus," he called when there was still no answer.

"Go away!"

"I will not."

Albus perched on the edge of Severus's desk, careful to move any papers out of the way first. Several minutes passed and finally the door flew open and its owner glared at him before turning his back and retreating back to his quarters, leaving the door open. Albus jumped to his feet and followed him in, pulling the door shut behind him.

Severus sat on the couch before the fire, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, which he raised in an unspoken invitation.

"No, thank you, it is still quite early in the afternoon for drinking." Albus sat down in the chair beside the couch and rearranged his snowy beard. "Perhaps you should wait to drink until after we have talked."

"Oh, we need to talk? In that case--" 

He threw back his head and downed it in one shot, then put the glass back down, his eyes boring into Albus's.

"Severus, I know you don't appreciate it when I meddle in your business, so I do try to stay out of the way for the most part." Severus snorted and glared at the fireplace as if it was the source of all his anger "But when your … problems interfere with my school, I must intervene."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Severus Snape deducting points from Slytherins. For snapping at every teacher in this school, not to mention the students. Teachers, even students are starting to talk."

"About what?" he snarled, pouring another drink despite the look Albus gave him. 

"You. I am quite worried about you, as are several of the other teachers."

"I'm fine," Severus snapped a little too quickly. "I am quite busy with the potion and classes, the students are little shits as always, and working with Granger constantly causes me serious aggravation. These are all things I am perfectly capable of managing on my own."

For a time, Albus regarded him over the half-moon spectacles that teetered on the edge of his long nose.

"I'm sorry, child, I have again asked too much of you." The old man sighed and he suddenly every single year he had ever seen was visible on his tired face. "I had hoped that no longer spying for us would give you some well-deserved rest, but it appears I was wrong."

Severus stared at him with black eyes, and Albus wished he could understand the troubled man sitting before him. 

"It's not --" he began, then faltered, looking down at the empty glass he still held in his delicate hands. "You know how difficult things were becoming with Voldemort, you saw it yourself." 

Albus nodded and remembered the innumerable times he or another teacher had found Severus in a heap at the front gates of the school, unable to walk or speak, how it took him longer to recover from each visit he made. It pained him to think that he had forced Severus, who had trusted him so completely, to return to the Dark Lord whenever he was summoned.

"I feel as if I cannot grow accustomed to a … normal life. In some ways, I miss the life I had, where I had no attachments, nothing to lose."

Again, the older wizard watched him, saw the sadness that crossed his face when he looked away.

"Severus," he said, waiting for him to return his gaze. "I cannot lie to you and tell you that you will never lose anything you care about, or tell you 'tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all' for one cannot appreciate the truth in that unless he truly has loved and lost."

"Why thank you," he growled. "I do appreciate you not telling me these things."

"But I will assure you that if your mood does not improve soon, I will be forced to send you somewhere dreadful, full of sun and not a library for miles."

Severus scowled at the smile that played across the old man's face like an old bar piano jangled out familiar tunes to its drunk patrons. 

"You wouldn't dare," he threw back, but he knew deep down that Albus wasn't bluffing, that he really would do it. 

Albus smiled, his blue eyes sparkling, and he asked, "Could I still have that drink? Perhaps it is not too early after all."

With a snort, Severus poured another drink. 

"Is this now a social call?"

"As a matter of fact, I do want to remind you that we will be attending Miss Weasley's quidditch match next Thursday." Severus groaned. "Arthur Weasley has arranged for a portkey out of my office at two o'clock."

"How terribly exciting," he drawled. "And if I don't attend?"

"How soon would you like to take that vacation?" Albus asked, his lips twitching.

~ ~ ~

Hermione and Minerva talked excitedly about Ginny's upcoming match as they stood before Dumbledore's great desk sat there and listened. They were waiting on Severus, and it was very nearly two when he burst into the office, his face contorted in scowls. He said nothing as they all reached for the iron bar that lay on the desk.

Moments later, they arrived in front of the stadium, and they joined the short line of witches and wizards waiting to enter, a veritable river of orange and black with a splotches of grey and white. When they reached the front of the line, Hermione handed their tickets to an older witch wearing orange and white stripes.

"Enjoy the match!" the woman said as she handed each of them a program. 

They found their box easily. Harry and Ron were already there, as well as the Weasleys, and everyone had out a pair of omnioculars and talked animatedly.

"Oy, 'Mione!" Ron called and waved frantically as if she might have had trouble spotting him in the small elevated box.

Molly and Arthur sat on one row while Fred, George, Bill and Charlie sat on a row behind them, with Harry and Ron on the third row. There were two more empty rows behind them. Hermione hugged both Harry and Ron before sitting down on Harry's free side. 

"How're things, Harry?" she asked as she sat down.

He shrugged and said, "Can't complain, guess."

"No more run-ins with Malfoy, I hope." 

"No, thank Merlin," he answered with a grin. "How about you? How are you holding up?"

"Oh, I'll survive. The school year goes so much faster when you're not a student."

"Hey, 'Mione," Ron said as he leaned around Harry. "Did he tell you about the seven Nimbus 3000s that were donated anonymously to the Cannons just last week?"

"No, he didn't!" she said, clearly surprised, and arched her eyebrows at Harry. 

"What? Why would I donate Nimbus 3000s to such a sorry team when I don't even have one myself?"

"Right, Harry," Ron said, his voice brimming with skepticism and Hermione laughed. 

She flipped through the program, grinning at Ginny's team picture where she gave a shy smile and ducked out of the picture frame. 

Suddenly a male voice boomed through the half-full stadium, "Good afternoon! And welcome to today's match between the Falmouth Falcons and the Chudley Cannons! Please welcome the Falmouth Flacons!" Seven figures clad in grey and white robes flew out onto the quidditch pitch to a smattering of applause, and the announcer's voice grew excited as he continued, "And now! Your! Chudley Cannons!"

When the Cannons flew out blurs of orange and black, everyone in the box jumped up and cheered loudly, except Severus who clapped his hands a few times and made an effort to appear deathly bored. Orange and black fireworks exploded above the stadium and the sparkles moved together like clusters of fireflies and began to form words.

_GINNY WEASLEY FOR PRESIDENT_

Harry and Ron doubled over in laughter as Fred and George beamed proudly, until Molly whipped around. 

"George! Fred! You two are in big trouble when we get home!"

"She always says that," Ron whispered to Harry and Hermione as Molly turned back to her own husband who was also laughing at the twins' prank. "But they don't even live there anymore!"

The announcer came back on, his voice tinged with amusement. "It seems Ginny Weasley has brought her own advertising today."

The teams gathered on the field, hovering above the referee. The referee said a few words to the players, then released the four balls. The Cannons quickly took possession of the quaffle and started downfield towards the Falmouth goal. 

"Williams has the quaffle, then dumps it off to new team member Ginny Weasley-- Whoa, watch out Weasley! Those Falcons play rough!"

Ron jumped up and shouted obscenities at the Falcon beater who had knocked a bludger straight at Ginny's head, which she barely dodged, but she dropped the quaffle and it was picked up by a Falcons chaser. 

"Ronald Weasley, you watch your tongue!" Molly bellowed from two rows ahead, and Harry and Hermione both sniggered when Ron's face turned tomato red and he sat back down.

The Falcons scored on their drive, and then intercepted a pass from Williams to Phelps, the other chaser for the Cannons. They scored again, and it was quickly 20-0. 

"This is going to be ugly," Ron moaned.

"Apparently," Harry explained to Hermione, "when they played the Falcons last year, they lost 310-50."

"Ouch!"

"And here come the Cannons again, Williams has the quaffle," the announcer cried. "Pass to Phelps, back to Williams, and Williams lets off a terrible pass to Weasley, who recovers nicely."

Hermione watched carefully as Ginny duck and wove past the Falcons chasers, watched as she spun through the air on her broomstick, still clutching the red quaffle as she zipped past a bludger. 

"Harry! Did ya see that! She stole one of your moves!"

"Yeah, I'm impressed she picked that one up!"

"Weasley fires off a pass to Phelps, who slips through and scores! 20-10 Falcons! That was Falcons keeper Lana Allen who missed that one!"

The game continued, and after fifteen minutes, the Falcons had scored three unanswered goals and it was now 50-10. 

"The snitch!" Harry exclaimed. "It's hovering by the Falcons goalposts!"

Hermione and Ron followed his pointing and zoomed in their omnioculars to find the gold speck. It seemed the Cannons seeker Connolly had also spotted the snitch for she lowered her body to her shiny Nimbus 3000. As she zoomed towards the other teams goal, the Falcons scored again.

Connolly zigzagged through the Falcon side as she followed the snitch, and Hermione kept her omnioculars trained on the seeker. Neither saw the burly Falcons beater until he dropped from above and smacked away the snitch.

"That's not fair!" whined Ron as the referee screeched his whistle and brought play to a halt. 

"Looks like a penalty on the Falcons for that snitchnip foul by beater Kelly. Williams will take the penalty."

Williams took the quaffle from the referee and flew back and forth before the Falcons keeper, before darting another direction and hurling the quaffle towards the left goal. The keeper leapt for it, holding precariously to her broom with no hands, and the quaffle brushed the tips of her fingers, caromed off the inside of the goal and shot through.

"And it's good! Williams makes the penalty shot so Falcons lead 50-20!"

The quaffle came back into play and the Falcons chaser made a long pass downfield to another chaser, but Ginny shot up from near the ground and intercepted the pass, immediately heaving it back to Phelps who caught it one handed and threw it past the off-guard keeper.

"That's Weasley with the steal and another goal by Phelps! 50-30!"

The Cannons chasers fell back on defense as the Falcons drove towards them.

"Look!" Ron yelled as he pointed towards the Falcons seeker who had nosedived towards the grass, the Cannons seeker on his tail.

The snitch danced just off the ground, and both seekers pulled up early to avoid a collision, and it flew off, both seekers behind it, zigging and zagging mere inches above the grass. 

Suddenly, Harry jumped to his feet, as did all the Weasleys, and they started yelling.

"Go Ginny!"

Hermione pulled herself away from the seekers chasing the snitch and saw Ginny streaking towards the goals, the quaffle clasped to her like a precious ruby, nothing but the keeper between her and the goals as a bludger jetted towards her and she rolled under and around the broom to miss it, not even slowing down.

"Holy shit! Where did she learn that!" Harry exclaimed. "I didn't teach her that!"

"No, but I did," Charlie said, turning back to grin at Harry. 

"Well done!"

Ginny pushed towards the left goal, and the keeper followed her out, and then Ginny yanked her broom hard right and cut back to the right goal, leaning in on her Nimbus as if to coax just a bit more out of the broom. The keeper was slow in turning but zipped towards Ginny, and she leaned out on the broom, the quaffle on her fingers and she released it. As it soared through the goal, the referee wailed on his whistle.

"That's Weasley with the goal! Wait, no, the referee is saying it's no good because -- because the Falcons have caught the snitch! And the game is over! Falcons win 200-30!"

The box erupted into noisy chatter as every spoke at once.

"What!"

"But she made it before he caught the snitch!"

"That ref is blind!"

"I can't believe this!" 

Hermione focused her omnioculars on the field where Ginny and Williams, the captain, were yelling at the referee. The dark-haired man only shrugged his shoulders and turned to walk away. Ginny started to follow him, but Williams grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back and whispered something in her ear. Ginny scowled and nodded then followed the rest of the team who had started to walk off the field, Williams behind her. 

Molly stood up and said, "At least she played well."

"I'll say," Minerva answered. "She really has improved since Hogwarts!"

"Ginny wants everyone to stay for dinner at the Burrow," Arthur said as he also rose. 

"We can't," George said. "We already told Ginny."

"Me either," Charlie said. "I've got a date tonight."

Molly glared at her three sons. "You three should be more supportive of your sister!"

"She knows we love her and are proud of her," Bill piped in. "She told me she was just glad we were all coming to see her."

"I suppose you're not staying either!" Bill shook his head and gave his mother a furtive grin, and Molly's glare expanded exponentially to include Hermione, Harry and Ron. "And what about you three? Will you be disappearing as well?"

Hermione shook her head and looked to Harry and Ron, who also shook their heads.

"No, Mum, we're staying."

Molly's voice softened as she turned to Dumbledore. "We'd love for the three of you to stay as well."

"Of course!" Albus beamed at her and McGonagall nodded. 

Hermione glanced over at Severus, wondering if he would try to slip out of staying for dinner, but he simply stared out over the silent quidditch pitch and emptying stadium.

Molly turned her attention back to her other sons and frowned. "You can at least wait and tell her how good she was before you run off."

"Of course we will," Bill said for all of them, then looked sternly at Fred and George, who both shrugged.

"Very well then. They have a team meeting after the match, then she will meet us in front of the stadium."

They all stood and started down from the box. The crowd had mostly dispersed by the time they reached the front of the stadium. After fifteen minutes of waiting, a few of the Cannons emerged, and at last, Ginny. They surrounded her, and she hugged everyone -- except Snape, just smiled and nodded at him, and Hermione was surprised to see a faint smile cross his lips. 

They talked about the match for a few minutes, Charlie and Harry going on about the different moves she'd made, when Fred and George announced they needed to leave. Ginny hugged them again, and Bill and Charlie as well, who were also leaving. Fred saluted everyone, and George bowed, and with two distinct pops, they disappeared.

_Pop. Pop._

Hermione looked around, thinking Bill and Charlie had apparated without saying goodbye, but they were still there, with Ginny. 

_Pop. Pop. Pop._

All hell broke loose.

___  
A/N:

[Insert cliffhanger music.] I know, I know, I'm evil. But I did get it out in 9 days instead of 10! I'm going to stop saying I'll get the next chapter up in a week and maybe it will happen. Hope you enjoyed the quidditch match as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Albus's quote -- "'Tis better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all." -- is from Tennyson's In Memoriam. 

Ink, I edited out that bit with Anne and Hermione about the bet … I couldn't fit it in properly. Thanks Virginia and Shitsurei, and everyone else who reviewed! Now review again! 


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Twenty Three

In a split second, Hermione had her wand pulled and whirled around to count at least twenty Death Eaters in black robes and masks encircling them, their wands raised.

"Watch out!" she screamed as the first curse whizzed by her ear and hit Charlie Weasley in the shoulder. He staggered backwards and fell to the ground.

More curses flew at the group and Hermione threw herself onto the ground and rolled as a Death Eater leveled his wand at her. The curse hit the ground beside her, throwing up rocks that scratched at her face. She jumped to her feet and aimed at him. 

"Stupefy!" 

It hit him square in the chest and he dropped. She dashed over and rope shot out from her wand like angry snakes that wound about his arms and legs, then she turned around and looked for the next Death Eater. 

She saw one aiming at Ginny and Hermione threw off a quick hex, which missed to left, but it got his attention and the Death Eater left her for Hermione. Ginny then took the opportunity to hit him with a _petrificus totalis_ and he dropped like a stone. Hermione looked up as a Death Eater shot off a green light at Albus, her mouth gaping as he disappeared as the curse approached him and suddenly he reappeared in the same space and incapacitated the Death Eater with a swish of his wand. 

A hex grazed her forehead, and she felt the skin rip and burn and she whirled to see another Death Eater running towards her and she shot off a stupefy which he dodged. He cast another curse and she dropped to the ground. 

"_Expelliarmus_!"

His wand flew high in the air and he slowed as he reached into his cloak, withdrawing a vial that he held close to his chest. Hermione wasn't sure that she wanted to see the contents of the glass. She waited as if in a trance as he neared, her wand at the ready, and she lashed out, catching him in the chest with the heel of her boot as well as crushing the hand that held the vial. He flew backwards, screaming as glass cut into his hand and the vial burst into flames, the fire racing up his arm and towards his face. Hermione cast the strongest freezing charm she knew and the flames licking at the Death Eater flickered out as he himself froze and crashed to the grass. She admired her handiwork with a grim smile, knowing that he would not thaw out before he could be apprehended by Ministry police. 

It suddenly occurred to her that Severus's betrayal of Voldemort made him as tempting a target to the Death Eaters as Harry or Albus would, and she tried to find him in the confusion, dodging and ducking through the fight.

"'Mione! Move!"

She heard Harry's voice and in that moment her instincts took over and she dove to the side as a green bolt brushed her cloak, landing on her forearms and rolling forward and back onto her feet before whirling around and lowering her wand.

"_Avada kedavra_!"

The words left her mouth before she could take stock of them, slipping out without prior consent, and she watched as the spell connected with its intended target and the Death Eater collapsed immediately.

"You okay?" Harry yelled as he ran up.

"Yeah, considering," she answered shakily. "I have to find Snape."

"Go on then," he said, wiping a hand across his forehead, leaving behind a grimy streak. "Shit! Looks like I gotta save Ron's ass again!" 

Harry sprinted off towards the entrance to the stadium. Suddenly, six Ministry Police in dark blue robes apparated, along with two wizards in plain robes and Hermione recognized them as aurors. A cry went up among the Death Eaters, and many began to break away from the fighting to disapparate, but several were caught by curses before they could disappear.

"Where's Severus?" she yelled and no one answered, so she scanned for him frantically.

Finally she caught sight of him, across the field, a good hundred yards away, saw his wand fly out of his hand as he was hit with something and she bolted towards him, wondering how he got so far away from everyone else.

Time slowed and she saw the green light erupt from the Death Eater's wand, watched as the curse crawled across the distance separating the two men and strike Severus in the chest and he sank to his knees, a look of utter disbelief on his face.

"No!" she screamed and every single memory and thought she had about that man, from the first time she saw him in the Great Hall when she was eleven, crystallized into one single need to reach him.

She pumped her arms and legs, racing towards them as Severus fell forward onto his hands, and he held himself up on shaky arms.

_He must've taken the mortalis before we left! _

The Death Eater took a few steps towards Severus, not understanding why the curse hadn't worked. He brought his wand back up toward Severus, who was pushing himself back onto his feet, and again shot him, this time at point-blank range.

"Severus!"

She was only forty yards away from them now, and she could see Severus struggling to sit up, and again the Death Eater lowered his wand. This time, he didn't move. 

"_Avada Kedavra_!" 

A blast of green light shot past the Death Eater, and she glanced over to see Harry running full-on from the side, his wand out. He yelled again, and this time the curse hit its target. 

Hermione didn't slow down until she fell to her knees beside Severus, gasping for breath while her lungs burned like a forgotten roast, and she carefully rolled him onto his back and felt for a pulse. She couldn't feel anything so she lowered her cheek to his lips and felt a tiny puff of air.

"_Mobilicorpus_," she murmured and his body floated a few feet off the ground. 

She then conjured a stretcher and slid it beneath him, then released him onto the stretcher. Her hands shook as she tried to take his readings. 

"How is he?" Harry asked breathlessly as he got to her.

"Don't know, he probably shouldn't even be alive. Fuck!" she exclaimed. "I can't get a clear reading. We've got to get him out of here, immediately."

Harry nodded. "Right. I better check on everyone else."

They started back to the front of the stadium with Severus's stretcher in tow, but an auror intercepted them. He was older, his black hair tinged with grey. He had piercing blue eyes, and his normally full, pink lips were pulled into a tight line. 

"Potter, Granger," he greeted them, nodding curtly.

"Jones, glad to see you," Harry answered.

"The Minister wants to see you, immediately."

"As soon as everything is cleared up here --"

"No, I'm afraid he insisted you leave at once. We can manage things here. St. Mungo's is on their way."

Harry frowned, his eyebrows furrowing together over the broken glasses that dangled on his nose as he looked to Hermione. "I'll be at Hogwarts as soon as I'm done there."

"Right." 

Harry disapparated and she followed Jones back to the queuing area in front of the stadium.

"What happened?"

"We were leaving the match when we were surrounded by about twenty Death Eaters. It all happened so fast, I really don't know what else happened. I killed one and took down two more, and then they started running when you all showed up."

"I can't believe they would be so arrogant to attack three aurors, the Deputy Minister and the Headmaster of Hogwarts in broad daylight," Jones said, shaking his head. 

"How many were caught?"

"Nine. Of course, we'll be taking them back to the Ministry for interrogation."

She scoffed and asked, "Why? They won't know anything, of course. Even if you use Veritaserum, you know how Voldemort works." He started at her mention of his name, but she ignored it. "Only a select few know what really goes on, and everyone else knows nothing. You might as well send them straight to Azkaban."

"I know, but we still have to take the chance that one of these fuckers knows something." He grinned and added, "Besides, interrogation can be therapeutic sometimes."

Hermione frowned. Death Eater or not, she did not condone further violence on prisoners or the Ministry's blind eye towards the situation. 

"I need to talk to Evans," he said and excused himself. Hermione saw witches and wizards in lime green robes moving about the grass, but she couldn't tell who was injured. Albus Dumbledore pulled away from the Healer he had been talking to and strode out to meet her.

"Where is Harry? Is he alright?"

"Yes, Fudge wanted him, so he's there now, but he'll be by Hogwarts later he said."

"Fudge always picks the most inopportune times." He saw the stretcher floating behind her and his voice filled with concern and he asked, "What about Severus?"

"I don't know, bad. He was hit with the killing curse three times. We need to get him to St. Mungo's."

Dumbledore shook his head, his blue eyes humorless. "We must take him to Poppy. He would have it no other way."

"But St. Mungo's is --"

"Not more qualified than Poppy Pomfrey."

"They have more --"

"Resources? I do not believe so. Pomfrey, McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, myself. And you, as well, Professor Granger. Are we not just as qualified and resourceful?" His eyes bore into hers and she could not answer. "I'll trust you can take him safely back to Hogwarts."

"Of course. What of the others?"

Albus sighed, rubbing a hand across his weary brow. "Charlie Weasley is dead."

"Shit."

"Ginny and Arthur have both been taken to St. Mungo's with severe but treatable conditions. Everyone else received minor wounds and is being treated here. Now you must get Severus to Poppy."

"Yes, and I'll come straight back," Hermione said, but as soon as the words left her tongue, she knew she would rather be with Severus, and it seemed Dumbledore felt the same.

"No, my dear, you must help Poppy," he said, his blue eyes more serious than she had seen them before. "You know better than anyone about his condition, and I know Severus would want you there as well." Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Dumbledore was already forcing an old soda can into her hand and saying, "This was to be our transport back to Hogwarts but you must use it immediately."

She held the can tight in her left hand and reached for the stretcher with the other. As she felt the hook at the back of her stomach before the portkey jerked her back to the castle, Dumbledore gave a small wave and turned back to the others. In an instant, she thudded to the cold floor of the grand entrance, her knees banging off the cold marble and she scrambled to her feet. 

She pointed her wand at the stretcher and it skimmed the ground behind her as she charged up the stairs to the third floor. Hermione burst into the hospital wing, sending the doors clattering against the walls and Poppy emerged from her office, a terrible frown crossing her face until she glimpsed the stretcher and rushed over.

"Severus? What happened?" 

"We were attacked. He took three killing curses and he's barely alive."

"But how could --"

"The potion," she answered brusquely. "We need a strengthening solution, and water."

"Of course!" 

Poppy hurried off to her stores and Hermione maneuvered the stretcher onto an empty bed, then disappeared it, allowing Severus to lay on the bed. She started to pull off his cloak when Poppy returned.

"I'm afraid you have to clean up before you can do anything else here, Hermione," she said, a surprising firmness in her voice, and Hermione had no choice but to obey. "There are clean robes in the cabinet above the toilet."

Hermione went to the bathroom and flinched when she saw her reflection in the mirror. A dried river of blood ran from the gash on her forehead down the right side of her face and to her jaw, as well as a nasty bruise developing on her right cheek, and some smaller scratches covered the left side of her jaw. She pulled out her wand and aimed it first at the gash, which sealed up to a small scar after she was done, then pointed to the black bruise which shrank to nothing. She did not worry about the smaller scratches, because a spell would be ineffective, but would get a potion from Poppy for them.

She discarded the dirty robe, pulled her hair back into a knot and turned on the sink, letting the water run hot. She scrubbed her face, working gently around the remnants of her wounds because they still hurt a bit, then dried off and shrugged on a clean Hogwarts robe. She did feel better.

She went back into the hospital wing where Poppy had changed Severus into a cotton gown and had buried him beneath several blankets. She turned as Hermione approached, meeting her at the foot of the bed.

"I gave him the strengthening potion and cleaned him up. I don't know anything else to do for him."

"I've seen the rats recuperating from our own tests, and there's nothing to be done except let him rest."

"I'm not going to lie to you," Poppy began and extended a hand to Hermione's shoulder. "He doesn't look good. He may not make it."

She barely nodded, her voice cracking when she answered, "I know."

"One of us should keep watch at all times, I suppose." Poppy paused, her wise eyes watching as Hermione crouched by the bed and felt Severus's cheek with the back of her hand. "Do you want to go first? Or would you like to rest some? I'm sure you're exhausted."

She stood, her back to Poppy and she said, "No, I'll stay with him."

"Can I get you anything then, my dear? Something for that gash?"

Hermione turned to the older witch and shook her head. "No, it's alright. But maybe something for these," she said, motioning to the scratches along her jaw.

"Of course, you wait there."

Poppy bustled off to the cabinets in her office, and Hermione turned back to the bed and the pallid figure. She summoned over a hardback chair and transfigured it into a small armchair a bit more comfortable, but hard enough to keep her from drifting off. She knew Poppy was right in suggesting rest, she desperately needed it, having forgotten how much effort and energy required to cast _avada kedavra_ on another, rather than a rat. 

But she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep, not with Severus laying unconscious in the hospital wing, at the top of the ragged slope down. She couldn't leave him while his fate was uncertain. 

~ ~ ~

Finally Harry escaped the grasp of Cornelius Fudge and then tracked down Alex Jones, who had since returned from the scene at the quidditch stadium. Jones informed him about Arthur and Ginny Weasley's transferal to St. Mungo's, and that the rest of the family had followed. He immediately went to the magical hospital. 

The witch at the front desk waved him through, telling him to check on the fourth floor, short-term ward. He took the rickety stairs two at a time and he was out of breath by the time he reached the floor for spell damage, vaguely remembering seeing Lockhart on a previous visit to the same floor. 

He passed the long term residents ward, wondered if Frank and Alice Longbottom still resided there, wondered how Neville was doing. He would have to ask Ginny, if she was awake, since she and Neville had remained friends after Hogwarts. A sudden pang of sadness hit him as he realized he had lost most of the friendships he had developed while at Hogwarts.

He found the short-term ward and spoke to the on-duty Healer, a witch named Evelyn. Despite her diminutive stature (Harry did not think her taller than five foot), she was intimidating with wild grey hair that flew out at all angles, and a piercing green squint, her voice like coarse burlap scraping against stone.

"And you are?"

"Harry Potter, ma'am. I'm here to see Arthur and Ginny Weasley."

"Hmm, yes. They are together at the very end on the left," the old woman croaked, pointing down the row of beds and drawn privacy curtains.

He thanked her and went down the row, not looking right or left as he walked, his mind still churning over the details of the afternoon. Pettigrew had said there would be no more than fifteen Death Eaters, but Harry knew that there had been twenty or more, and they fought harder than he had expected. 

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed and Harry pushed the matter from his mind. 

He embraced Ron quickly, nodded at Bill who stood by the wall, and then turned his attention to the tear-stained face of Molly Weasley. She pushed herself up from the wooden chair that sat between Arthur's and Ginny's beds and met his outstretched arms and he held her as gently as a new father would his own child. She sniveled a few times on his chest, and he patted her gently on the back until she pulled away and managed a wan smile before sitting back down. 

"Harry, dear."

"Mrs. Weasley, if there's anything I can do …." He trailed off and she nodded, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "How are they?"

"Arthur will be out in a few days, they want to observe him first. Ginny should be able to leave in the morning, but the Healers have told her she can't play quidditch for at least a month, maybe more, because of a curse that hit her left shoulder."

"I still can't believe it!" Ron said from a chair on the other side of Ginny's bed. "That they would try that shit on us!"

"Ron," Molly began, but her voice lacked its usual conviction and Ron's cheeks failed to darken.

"Mrs. Weasley, I need to go to Hogwarts and talk to Dumbledore, but I'll be back afterwards."

"No, go on, get some rest," Ron said. "Fred and George are coming back later so Bill and I'll go home for a bit."

"Alright." 

Ron turned to Bill. "I'm gonna walk Harry down and maybe stop by the tea shop after. You want something?"

"Yeah, get me a black coffee."

"Mum?"

Molly nodded slowly, her eyes on her husband. Harry and Ron turned around and left the ward. Ron was silent until they reached the stairs. 

"So what did Fudge want?"

"Aw, his usual bullshit. Asked why I didn't know about it beforehand, as if I have some sort of precognition of being attacked by Death Eaters."

Ron scowled. "Fucking moron."

"Yep, our boss. Now I've got to check in with Dumbledore and have pretty much the same conversation."

"He couldn't be that bad, could he? He always seemed harmless to me."

"That's the point, Ron," Harry said, throwing a reproachful look over his shoulder. "That's why he's so great: everyone underestimates him."

"Oh."

"And I have to check on Hermione and Snape."

"Is Snape really that bad off?"

"Not sure, Hermione couldn't say. But I saw him take _avada kedavra_ three times and live, though just barely."

"Holy Merlin! Three times?" Ron exclaimed, clearly impressed. "How'd he do that?"

"What, she didn't tell you about the miracle potion she's got going?"

"Well, a little, but you know how hard it is to pay attention to Hermione when she gets going."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, I know what you mean. But it was so incredible, each time he took a curse, and I thought he was dead for sure, but I really think he would have died after one more."

"Would that have been so bad though? A world without Snape?"

Harry didn't answer. They reached the ground floor and again they hugged before Ron went upstairs to the tea shop and Harry made his way outside to the almost deserted street. He ducked down and empty alley and apparated to the outskirts of the Hogwarts grounds. He crossed quickly to the front doors and went immediately to the hospital wing. 

As he entered, Poppy called out to him from her office and she rushed out to him. 

"Harry, are you alright dear? Did anyone from St. Mungo's check you out?"

"I'm alright, Madam Pomfrey," he said with a boyish grin. "Just here to see Hermione, that's all."

"She's been keeping watch over Severus since she got here," Poppy said, and the corners of her mouth turned down, "as if she's afraid to leave him alone."

"Hmm. Well, perhaps I'll take her for a quick walk."

He went to the back corner and slipped behind the drawn curtain, and Hermione started at his presence. 

"Harry," she mumbled, voice thick with sleep. "Shit, must've dozed off."

She sat up quickly and moved to the side of the bed, and Harry for the first time looked at Severus Snape as he lay on the bed. He was buried completely under blankets except for his head, and his face was a pale, sickly color, his hair especially greasy as it clung to the pillow. He looked terrible, as if he would die at any second. Harry watched with curiosity as Hermione labored over him, checking his vitals and administering a potion.

"What's that?"

"A strengthening potion. The only thing that can help his recovery."

She straightened and placed the vial back on the bedside table, and touched her hand to his forehead. Unsatisfied with what she found, she pulled back the sheets, revealing a feeble chest that just barely moved up and down with each breath that struggled through his lungs. Hermione spread her hands across his chest, over his heart and murmured what Harry recognized as a warming spell. Her hands glowed red and the glow spread to Severus's white skin and dispersed through the rest of his body, and she covered him up again.

"Let's go for a walk," Harry said, holding up a hand to stem her reply. "He's not going to die while you're gone. I think Madam Pomfrey can take good care of him in the meantime."

She forced a laugh. "You're the second person to tell me that today."

"Let me guess, Dumbledore's the other?" She nodded. "I need to go see him, but first, I want to talk to you."

She finally acceded and she left the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey settling into her previous position, following Harry as he strode down the third floor corridor.

"It was smart to bring him back here instead of St. Mungo's."

"It was Albus's idea, good thing he was calmer than I was. Now I can see why, since we wouldn't want to explain to everyone how Severus managed to survive three shots of the killing curse."

"Speaking of which, how did he?" Harry asked, slowing a bit to match her pace. "I didn't know the potion was that far along."

"Neither did I. We've had no practical tests on it before, just with rats. I would have actually thought it less effective on the human, but it appears to be roughly equivalent, just with higher side effects."

They walked in silence for a moment, until Harry asked the very question Hermione had been herself avoiding:

"Will he make it?"

"I -- I don't know. Usually in the rats, there's some recovery of strength after a couple of hours, but it's been almost five hours and he's hardly better than he was when we got here."

"And you've been with him this whole time?" Hermione didn't look at him as she nodded. "'Mione, you need to get some rest. I know you care about him a lot, but don't forget to take care of yourself."

She halted in the middle of the corridor and Harry turned back to look at her.

"What -- what do you --"

"I don't know what's happened to you, and it's okay that you haven't told me, I'm not upset. But it's obvious you care about him, I saw it this afternoon, I saw it back there and so did Pomfrey, and even now as you're glaring at me, I can tell you're really worried about him. And it's okay, I'm fine with that."

"Well, that's good because I don't need your approval of my feelings!" Hermione burst out angrily as she crossed her arms and scowled at him.

"Look, all I'm saying is that you need to worry about you too. Go take a nap, in the hospital wing if you insist, but take a nap and let Madam Pomfrey do her job."

Harry's deep green eyes pleaded with her and she finally gave in. "Alright, I'll lay down on the cot in Poppy's office."

"Thank you. C'mon, I'll walk you back before I go see the old man," he said, grinning and throwing his arm around her shoulders, hugging her to his side. She was glad for the physical contact and leaned in to him as she wrapped her arm around his waist.

"I keep having this really odd dream about you lately," Hermione said and Harry looked at her with raised eyebrows. "It's the same thing every time. You and Draco live together, and he's really sick but you take care of him."

"That is odd. Is there anything else to the dream?"

She shook her head. "Nothing I can remember."

"Maybe you should try taking a dreamless sleep potion," he suggested.

"It doesn't really bother me or wake me up or anything. It's just weird that I keep having it."

"You should tell Trelawney about it. Maybe she could tell you if it means anything."

"Yeah, sure," Hermione said, laughing as she poked Harry in the side. 

He left her in the care of Poppy Pomfrey, who was thrilled that Harry had talked her into resting, a feat she had been unable to accomplish just a few hours ago. Harry then headed up to the Headmaster's office for a standard debriefing, though Harry was unable to offer much insight into the events of the afternoon. Eventually, Albus dismissed him and Harry nearly skipped out the castle and down the path, so eager he was to finally return home. He reached the edges of the school grounds and apparated back to his familiar street, ran up the steps to his own flat, sighing as he saw the charms were untouched from when he this afternoon, so long ago.

"Merlin! I was getting worried!" Draco exclaimed as Harry walked through the door.

"You're not the only one," Harry mumbled as he slouched into a worn chair by the couch and absently rubbed his cheek with one hand. 

"How did it go?" Draco asked, leaning in.

"It was a mess. There were at least twenty Death Eaters --"

"Twenty! I thought Pettigrew said fifteen!"

"Yes, and I'm very curious about that." He stopped, his eyes closing behind his glasses. After a moment, they snapped open and he started talking again. "They hit right after the game let out, swarmed us. 

"Snape's hurt bad, I don't know how bad but Hermione's afraid he could die. She got out alright, a few nasty cuts and sores, same for Dumbledore. Ron got knocked out, but he's okay now, so's McGonagall. Arthur and Ginny Weasley are in the hospital, and Charlie Weasley's dead."

"What about the Death Eaters?"

"Most apparated when the Ministry Police showed up with two aurors. A bunch got arrested, and I killed a couple myself so I'll probably be formally reprimanded." He went to the kitchen and got a beer out of the refrigerator, then sat back down. "I don't know how I'm expected to fight off that many Death Eaters while trying to keep Snape and everyone safe." 

"He'll be livid that Snape is still alive," Draco said, "since that was the main reason for the attack."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's going to be a fun meeting." Harry took a long pull of his beer and sat in quiet for a moment. "I did find out some information on the miracle potion."

"Really?" he asked, his eyebrows arching into the cascading blonde hair above. "I haven't made much headway with that sample."

"I'll put it in my Pensieve later so you can see the whole thing. It's fucking amazing, Draco, I saw him take the curse three times and live."

"Voldemort will kill for this potion." 

"I know," Harry said, taking another drink. "That's why we have to make sure Snape stays alive to finish it. I don't think Hermione can do it alone."

Draco scoffed. "Of course not."

"I didn't mean it like that. I meant, she _could_ but --" he stopped, realizing Draco wouldn't understand what he was trying to say. "She did mention you, said she kept having some strange dream where you were sick and I was taking care of you."

"Is that all?" 

He shrugged. "That's all she could remember, she said."

"Do you think she has remembered anything from her visit?"

"No, she would have said something else."

"One can hope. If she starts to suspect you, it would cause trouble."

Harry grinned as he slid his glasses off his nose and pulled out his wand, a bolt of magic fixing the broken nosepiece, and then settled them back on his face. 

"Don't you know, trouble's my middle name?" Draco rolled his eyes and Harry set down the beer and slid over to the couch, wrapping an arm around Draco's shoulders, planting a tender kiss on waiting lips. "How are you feeling?" 

"Tired. The potion will be wearing off soon." 

"Already?" Harry asked incredulously. "You should still be okay for at least three hours!" 

"Don't you think I know that already?" Draco snapped, and he felt terrible for it when he saw the sadness on Harry's face. "I think I'm developing a tolerance for it, I didn't want to tell you yet."

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, balling his fist and punching his thigh. "We could do some more work on it, try to fix it. Maybe get Snape to look at it again."

"I don't think it will matter either way."

"What do you mean?"

"Harry," Draco said, his voice quiet. "You know what I mean. A few more weeks won't do anything except for delay the inevitable and give you more false hope. I'm dying, Harry, sooner, not later."

He saw the tears forming in Harry's emerald eyes and he pulled Harry to him, stroking his wild black hair as the Boy Who Lived sobbed into Draco's fragile and dying body.

___  
A/N:

Yay! I got this chapter up in a week! You should be so proud! So reward me by leaving lots of reviews so I can have 200!! (Unless Ink still wants to send me that check….)

Lotta, yeah, I was talking to you! You hadn't been signing your name, just the Shitsurei Shimasu, and I wasn't thinking when I wrote. What's that mean anyway?

Queenie, you are absolutely correct, though Sev won't be singing any NMH songs to Hermione! I really liked that line, and when I was writing the very first draft of the beginning, I heard that line while listening and thought it would be great for the title, especially since I was having problems coming up with one. So I hope you enjoy the fic, us being fellow NMH fans and all. Oh, you should listen to the Decemberists -- they remind me a lot of NMH. 


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Twenty Four

After returning to the hospital wing with Harry the previous night, Hermione slept in Poppy Pomfrey's office and left Friday morning to scribble assignments on the chalkboard for each of her classes with instructions to spend the period in the library, though she didn't bother to let Madam Pince know she was doing it. She went down to the dungeons, noticing the quiet of the classroom as she passed, and wondered what Albus had arranged for potions classes Severus was missing. A smile crossed her lips when she thought about how angry he would be when he woke up. 

_If he wakes up_, a nasty voice in her head added, and the smile vanished from her face.

When she reached the laboratory, she immediately went to the potions and checked them, since they had been unattended for over eighteen hours. They all seemed to be in order, and she put stasis spells on each so that she could deal with them later. She then picked up the notebook that Severus had been using last, as well as a few books she had been meaning to look over, and returned to the hospital wing. She hurried back because she hadn't had time to check on Severus before left, as Poppy had woken her just before the start of the first class.

In the far corner of the hospital wing, Poppy had set up privacy screens, as well as a charm to keep away nosy students. The mediwitch was tending to her patient when Hermione returned.

"How is he?"

"He looks a bit better than last night, I think," she answered as she checked his pulse and glanced at his chart. "Yes, pulse is stronger today." 

"Good. You already gave him another dose of the strengthening potion?" 

"Yes, and a glass of water as well."

"Poppy, you are amazing," Hermione said and gave the older witch a grateful smile. 

"I just do what I can, dear. Oh, the Headmaster came by while you were gone. He was checking to see if you would be spending the day here. I told him yes, you would be."

"As if he didn't already know," she muttered and Poppy laughed. 

"There is not much in that happens within the walls of this castle that Albus Dumbledore does not know. Don't let him trick you into thinking he's omniscient, he's not. He just has lots of eyes watching out for him."

"I'll remember that next time he does it again. Go and rest now, I'll take over. I stopped by the dungeons and picked up some notes to keep me occupied."

"How are your potions? Are they alright without supervision?" Poppy asked.

"Oh, sure. I put stasis charms on them first thing, so when I get back to them, it's just like there was never an interruption."

"That's good. Now, you call if you need anything, dear," she said and returned to her office.

Hermione set her things down in the chair and perched on the edge of the bed. She reached out her hand to his neck, the new bristles of his beard scratching at her fingers like quills of a porcupine. She found his carotid artery and felt the blood pumping through it, but she didn't allow herself any hope by the small improvement. 

His breathing was still shallow, and laying her hand on his forehead, she found it remained clammy, though a bit warmer than it had been the previous night. She brushed back the strands of long hair that clouded his face. 

Hermione reluctantly left his side and sat in the chair, flipping through Severus's notes for a few minutes before setting them aside and picking up a book. She started reading, though her eyes regularly darted to the bed, as if he might slip away from the hospital wing if she didn't continually verify his presence. After an hour of attempting to digest the text she had been only half-reading, she finally gave up and sat in silence, staring at Severus, giving in to the thoughts that had been buzzing about in her mind, refusing to lie still when commanded.

It occurred to her that she knew very little about the man that lay before her, despite the time they had spent together working on the potion. He had volunteered nothing, and neither did Hermione ask for anything. She wondered if anyone really knew him, other than Albus. 

She watched the rise and fall of the sheets, hypnotized by the ritual of the motion. She had come to Hogwarts, not with an open mind, but with the same prejudices she had carried as a student as far as her old Potions Master was concerned, even after sleeping with him. 

_And now I might never really know him_, she thought fiercely. _I don't give a shit about him 'til he's almost dead, how fucking typical!_

Her eyes smarted and she swiped at an errant tear and sniffed. She picked up the book from her lap and forced her eyes to concentrate, but the words and letters swam on the page and she let the book fall from her hands and clatter to the floor. She slumped forward and held her head in her hands, suddenly awash in despair.

~ ~ ~

Hermione paced the corridor along the third floor like a caged tiger, stalking back and forth, glaring at passing students for merely making eye contact. Poppy had forced her out of the hospital wing later that afternoon because she could not deal with Hermione's pent-up frustration while she was treating seven fourth year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs who had eaten alihotsy leaves although Professor Sprout had clearly instructed them not to, and she was having trouble subduing them as they raced around the hospital wing, screeching hysterically.

She was angry. It had just hit, this uncontrolled fury, and she knew it was irrational, that there was no target for her anger, except perhaps the Death Eater who had nearly killed Severus, but Harry had taken care of him before she could. So instead, she was angry at herself, Poppy, anyone, even Severus for taking the potion without telling her, but really mostly herself because she couldn't do anything more to keep Severus from death.

A second year Slytherin walked down the hall, his hands in his pockets as he kicked at the floor, and Hermione snapped, "Don't you have somewhere to be, Mister Rosier, rather than dawdling in the hallways?"

"I was going to see Madam Pomfrey," he said, clearly surprised at her outburst. 

"Then keep moving." 

Rosier complied, his head ducked, and walked quickly to the hospital wing, passing Albus Dumbledore who was on his way out. He noticed Hermione at the end of the hall and started towards her. She heard his approach and turned to scowl at him.

"It seems there has been no improvement in his condition." 

"Don't you think I know that already?" she growled and glared at him and looked away, to a point on the wall across from them. Albus merely watched her, and that only angered her further. "I've done all I can and still nothing! I can't take this -- this uncertainty anymore!"

"You must have patience, Hermione." 

"Why?" she asked, her voice growing shrill. "Because good things come to those who wait? I'm not a child anymore, I know good things don't always come."

She knew he was still watching her, could feel the sympathy oozing from the man's every pore, the stench was more pungent than bile, but she kept her eyes averted because she knew she would crack if she met his gaze. Suddenly his hand squeezed her shoulder and she finally turned to face him. 

"My dear, you are right, and under different circumstances, with a different man, I would never presume to assure you that everything will indeed work itself out." He paused and the corners of his mouth turned up as he continued, "However, having known Severus Snape for more years than I can remember, I feel assured in saying he will be greatly unhappy if you are not there when he awakens."

Hermione looked into Albus's blue eyes and she knew he was telling the truth, that Severus would wake without a doubt, and she didn't fight the tears that streamed down her cheeks as she finally allowed herself to believe that Severus might live. He wrapped her into a tight embrace and she buried herself in his snowy beard. After a few minutes, when her sobs had subsided, he pulled back and smiled broadly.

"If you are feeling up to it, I do believe Poppy could use some help with those hysterical fourth years."

~ ~ ~

She walked blindly through a haze, a fog that obscured everything but Harry's back and she hurried after him. 

"Don't you remember, Draco's dying?"

"Malfoy?"

"Nothing can save him, not even me."

"Draco?"

He disappeared and Hermione sprinted after him, arms outstretched, until she found him again, standing before a large bed in the fog. She was going to admonish him for running away when she noticed Draco in the bed, skin hanging off his bones like some sort of undead creature and she gasped when he looked at her, his eyes hollow, his hair a cheap wig hanging off his skull.

"I'm dying," he wheezed. "Don't you remember?"

As she watched, his skin began to wither and decompose, the white hair blowing away, leaving only the bones, one hand reaching out to Harry, who took it and lay on the bed by the skeleton. 

Hermione bolted upright in the chair, out of breath and bewildered as she looked around. A narrow strip of light slipped through the door to the hospital wing into Poppy's office, and she calmed once she recognized her surroundings. She glanced at her watch, dismayed to see she had only been asleep a few hours. 

The dreams were growing stronger and more bizarre every time she slept. Poppy had offered her a dreamless sleep potion earlier when she had mentioned her difficulty in sleeping. After several minutes of internal debate, Hermione finally decided to take one, so that she could be well-rested for watching Severus later that evening.

That decided, she went to a warded cabinet behind the desk and repeated the password Poppy had given her. She easily found the potion, poured out the recommended dosage, then took it in one big gulp and a little burp. She managed to make it back to the cot before sleep overtook her, but she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

~ ~ ~

Blood pounded through his head, an incessant tribal drumbeat being played by unseen savages, and Severus forced his eyes open. Surrounded by inky blackness, he thought perhaps his eyelids were not working until he began to make out shapes in the dark. He turned his neck and determined that he was in a bed in some sort of hospital. He tried to move his arms and legs, but they refused to cooperate. He turned his head the other way and saw a dark figure slumped in a chair, bushy curls going every direction. 

"Hermione," he tried to say, but his tongue was thick, completely filling his mouth as he opened it, attempting to talk, but the words came out in a mishmash of syllables. 

Hermione jerked awake at the noise and gasped when she saw him staring at her. She leaned forward and lit the candle on the bed stand.

"Water," he managed, the words slurred but understandable.

She jumped up and poured a glass of water. Severus tried to reach up to hold the glass, but his muscles were too weak to lift his arms off the sheets more than a few inches and he was unable to sit up.

"Here," she murmured, sitting on the edge and gently lifting his neck so that he could reach the glass in her other hand. 

He gulped the water quickly, like a man stranded in the desert for weeks, and he sputtered as he took in too much. Hermione set the glass back down, lowered his head back to the pillow and wiped his face with the sleeve of her robe, but she did not leave the bed.

"Careful, better drink slowly."

His mouth rewetted, Severus found he could speak, though his usual liquid silk voice sounded more like a screeching frog to his own ears. 

"What happened?"

"We were at Ginny's quidditch game when we were attacked by Death Eaters."

"I remember that, but everything else is hazy."

"I'm not surprised. You were hit three times by _avada kedavra_."

His voice creaked as he asked, "Three times?" Hermione nodded. "I suppose the potion does indeed work."

"So it would seem. How do you feel?"

"As if death might be preferable."

"Well, I hope not because Poppy and I worked very hard to keep you from death." She pulled out her wand and said, "Relax, I'm going to take your readings."

Severus watched as Hermione hovered over him, moving her wand from point to point on his body, her eyes fixed determinedly on the wand in her hand, and his heart swelled. He had been close to death before, on more occasions than he cared to remember, but it was the first time he was truly glad to have been spared. Hermione straightened, satisfied with his results, and placed her wand back inside her robes. 

"I'm going to tell Poppy you're awake," she said, and disappeared behind the curtain.

He concentrated all his energy and pushed himself up a bit, managing to get his shoulders up on the headboard. He panted from the effort, and couldn't push up further, though his current situation was not very comfortable. Just then, Poppy bustled in.

"Severus! How wonderful to see you awake!" she cried. "Hermione's gone to tell Albus."

He scowled and said reluctantly, "I need help sitting up."

She helped him sit up fully, settling a pillow in the small of his back for comfort. She turned to the bed stand and reached for an opaque bottle.

"It is time for more strengthening potion, I should think."

Severus gratefully accepted the potion, could feel it roaring through his muscles and energizing them. He pushed the covers back and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Severus," Poppy warned, her voice severe, "I will not let you leave this bed."

"Gods, woman, I just want to stand," he snipped, gingerly moving his weight to his feet. 

He stood for a moment before swaying precariously. Poppy threw an arm around him and guided him back to the bed. 

"You'll be here until I am satisfied," she said, her voice and eyes fierce, and he knew she would brook no argument. "We were all worried about you, especially Hermione. She never left." 

His eyes jumped to her, but she busied herself replacing the blankets he had thrown off.

"What day is it?"

"Sunday."

His mind reeled. He had been here since the attack on Thursday, and Hermione had stayed the entire time, even missing her classes. 

"Are you thirsty?" 

He nodded and Poppy handed him a glass of water. As he finished drinking, Albus Dumbledore entered through the curtain, wearing emerald green robes over a long, grey nightgown, followed by Hermione. Severus's eyes lingered on hers for a moment before he tore them away to look at the old wizard who sat down on the bed beside him.

"Severus!"

"Headmaster."

"How are you feeling?"

"I've felt worse." He narrowed his eyes and allowed a small grin to escape as he added, "Though I'm sure I don't look any worse than normal."

Poppy clucked disapprovingly as Hermione and Albus chuckled, though everyone was relieved to see he retained some semblance of a sense of humor. 

"Oh, Severus you do sell yourself short, as I'm sure the two ladies will attest to," Albus said with a broad smile as he gazed at Hermione. 

She laughed uncomfortably, her eyes shifting to Severus, who watched her with unfeigned interest, and she coughed and said, "He's right." She was glad to see Poppy nod in agreement before she snuck out, back to her office.

He tore his gaze away from Hermione and turned back to Albus and asked, "Was anyone else injured in the attack?"

"Charlie Weasley died, and Arthur and Ginny were both taken to St. Mungo's. Ginny has been released, but Molly thinks Arthur will be there at least a week longer."

Severus sucked in his breath with a hiss and scowled. "I suppose we don't know who led the attack, do we?"

Albus shook his head, but Hermione said, "I would think it was Malfoy, especially after that visit to Hogwarts."

"It was too unorganized to be Draco," Severus countered. "He is very precise and methodical and would have come after me when I was more or less alone, not while completely surrounded by well-trained wizards and witches. My wager would be on Pettigrew."

"I'm inclined to agree with Severus," Albus said. "Draco would not have failed."

"You're probably right," she admitted. "Though it still doesn't explain why they decided to attack us."

"We were probably too tempting an opportunity: Albus, Potter, Arthur Weasley, not to mention you, being Muggle-born."

"Let's not forget yourself, a spy who was found out and still survived."

"I'm almost disappointed that Voldemort didn't care enough to want me alive," he muttered. 

"Well, I can see why, who wouldn't want to be tortured before being sent off to a horrifying death," Hermione retorted, her voice seeping with sarcasm. "It's a good thing you decided to take the potion before we left, though I'm somewhat mystified as to why you didn't tell me, or anyone else."

He shrugged. "I did not take it expecting to be ambushed. I have been taking it every day for the last month to chronicle any long term effects after daily usage, of which I have only found an elevation of temperature of several degrees."

"Oh," said Hermione, looking away abashedly. 

Suddenly Poppy reappeared holding a bottle of dreamless sleep potion. 

"Enough visiting, I must insist my patient rest," she informed them.

Albus grinned and said, "Very well, Madam. Severus, I shall check on you later." He patted Severus's arm as he stood and nodded at Poppy and Hermione as he moved to the curtain. "Good night ladies."

Poppy turned to Severus and tried to hand him the potion, but he pushed her away.

"Severus, if you do not take this potion of your own volition," she began, her eyes glinting, "I'm afraid I must ask Professor Granger here to assist in holding you down while I administer it myself."

"Poppy, I have never once taken one of your sleeping drafts and I am not starting tonight!"

The older witch crossed her arms and glared at him, but Severus, being the reigning master of glares, was impervious and cocked an eyebrow at her. Finally she relented and looked at Hermione.

"Will you be staying here then? To make sure he doesn't sneak away?"

"Um, I -- I don't know, I hadn't really thought about it," Hermione stammered, looking from her to the bed, where Severus watched closely. "I'm not sure that we need to keep watch over him now…. What do you think?"

"Perhaps you could keep me company for awhile," he said, his eyes never having left hers and Hermione found her mouth had gone dry. 

"But not for too long, now, Severus," Poppy said breezily as she swept toward the curtain. "Good night, my dears."

Hermione sat down on the chair and chewed her bottom lip as his black eyes bored into her.

"Poppy tells me you've been here since Thursday," he said after a beat.

"Yes, mostly," she said hesitantly, as though unsure of where the conversation was going. "I brought you back from the stadium. I left a few times, to check on the potions and to give assignments to my classes and stretch my legs and keep from murdering anyone -- or Poppy from killing me -- but that was all."

"Thank you."

"For staying?" she asked, a note of surprise entering her voice, and he nodded. "What else could I have done?"

"Gone about your normal life, as I would have expected."

She looked down at her hands. "I -- I couldn't. I was so worried --"

He regarded her in silence as she looked at her hands, the bed, the window, anything but his face, realizing that she couldn't leave for the same reason he was glad she had stayed. His heart exploded into a thousand shards, the glass catching and tearing at his guts. He could no longer ignore the yearning in his heart, was so tired of pretending not to care. Maybe it was the proximity to death but he did not care as he let slip his guise of indifference.

"Hermione," Severus murmured, his voice low and soft, and she raised her brown eyes up to his onyx. "Come here."

She obeyed without question, her legs propelling her towards him without waiting for orders from her brain, which finally kicked in and sent word to them, and she faltered at the edge of the bed. He sensed her hesitation, and he grasped her wrist lightly, pulling her down to the bed. She sat beside him, a myriad of emotions covering her face, and with his other hand, he cupped her face.

"Hermione," he said again, his words sliding over her skin like velvet, warming her with their touch.

Hermione leaned into his touch, his thumb trailing along her cheek, and tears welled in her eyes. He gently pulled her to his chest, tucked her into his arm gently as the tears rolled down her face. 

"I thought I was going to lose you," she gasped between sobs and he pulled her closer, and he could feel the tears soaking through his flimsy gown, their wetness warm against his cool skin. 

"Shhhhh, shhhhh. It's alright, I'm not going to leave you," he whispered into her hair, his lips caressing the curls. "It'll take more than a hundred Death Eaters to take me away from you."

Hermione sobbed harder and snaked an arm over his chest and hugged him tight. Her wrist dug into his ribs, but Severus didn't care, didn't even notice it, as he lay on the lumpy mattress in the hospital wing absently stroking her hair, and he praised the gods that he had been spared once more. 

He felt Hermione fall asleep, her breath soft and even, and he held her tight. He tried to stay awake, there were so many things running around in his mind like escaped fireflies, the potion, Hermione, his classes, but especially the potion, but he couldn't stay awake and he dozed off.

Suddenly Severus felt the weight on the bed shift, and he jerked awake, afraid Hermione was leaving. Instead, he looked up to see the twinkling eyes of Albus Dumbledore and he scowled.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he hissed, and the older wizard smiled broadly.

"I was having trouble sleeping so I decided to check up on the invalid and his caretaker, nothing more." He paused and looked at them over his glasses, Severus's arms around Hermione and her head nestled on his chest, and Albus smiled. "I see things are improving."

"I'm sure you're just thrilled, aren't you? You've been waiting for this for a long time."

"What, to see you happy, Severus? Why, yes, yes I have."

The scowl deepened and Severus looked down at the sleeping figure in his arms.

"Happiness is fleeting."

"That does not mean it is not worthwhile."

"Yes, yes, I know, no need to quote Tennyson at me again." 

"I'm glad you finally took notice of what I tell you."

"Do you have any real reason for being here?" 

"As I said, I was just checking on you."

"Then get out of here before you wake Poppy and the entire school finds out!"

"Very well," Albus said as he stood, his blue eyes twinkling, and he retreated to the edge of the curtain, "but everyone will know soon enough, for who has ever seen Severus Snape in love?"

Severus growled, a low vibration that rumbled the bed, but the old man was already gone, and he was still too weak to give chase. He scowled and resolved to vigorously defend his reputation as the school bastard, despite anything between himself and Hermione.

But Severus did not see Poppy standing at the office door, a hand over her mouth, covering a toothy grin as Albus approached, nor did he see Albus wink at her on his way out.

___  
A/N:

Look, two weeks in a row you get new chapters! I can't promise anything for next chapter because I'm expecting it to be a challenge to write … but some questions might finally be answered! Also, I know some of you might wonder about ol' Sevvie suddenly falling out-of-character, I realize this now, after not having written w/ his POV lately. But I promise, he'll be back to his charming self soon enough.

Thank you, all of you who reviewed, because this fic now has over 200 reviews! You guys are so fucking awesome! Izzy, if you're reading this, get off yer lazy ass and finish that next chapter or I'll ban you from my fic! ;) Rowana, thanks for the 'puff of hair' notice … I got it fixed. Everyone else, thanks for reviewing and please let me know what you think of ch 24! 


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Twenty Five

It was the abnormal quiet of the room that woke him. Severus sat up quickly, his hand automatically reaching for his wand. 

"Lumos," he muttered then flinched against the sudden light. 

The other side of the bed was empty, the covers thrown back. He felt the exposed sheet, and it was cold. She had been gone for a while. He growled and rolled over, staring at the ceiling.

It was the fifth night in a row. The first night, nearly a week after the attack and a few days after Poppy finally released him, she had woken him as she climbed back into bed after being gone more than an hour. The third night, he found her in the living room, huddled and shivering in a chair by the fire and he was able to coax her back to bed, though she never volunteered her reasons for being there. But she never came back on the second and fourth nights, and it was beginning to look like she wasn't returning again. If this was a game, Severus was growing tired of it and fast. 

His feet found their slippers and he grabbed his robe from the foot of the bed, pulling it on and tying it as he padded to the bathroom. The sound of water drifted towards him and he frowned as he noticed the light coming from the cracks around the door. 

_Perhaps she just wanted to take a shower at four in the morning. And why the hell not?_

He opened the door and steam enveloped him as he entered the sauna of his bathroom. 

"If you're not careful," Severus said over the roar of water and her surprised gasp, "you'll use up the hot water and no one will be able to bathe for class in the morning."

He opened the fogged glass door into the shower. Hermione sat in the corner, letting the scalding water soak her. Her knees were pulled to her chest, holding up her chin, and she stared at him, a haunted, empty look. He didn't know what to say, so he sat down on the stone floor, strangely cold given the amount of warmth in the room. He crossed his legs and leaned forward, eyes on her, and she lowered her cheek to her knees and looked away.

After a few minutes of silence, she clambered to her feet and turned off the water spray. Severus conjured a towel as he watched her, water streaming down her lean body, between her full breasts and down the smooth belly, and he grew aroused. 

"Thank you," she murmured as he stood holding out the towel, and the corner of her mouth turned up when she noticed the bulge in his lap. "I'm sorry I keep waking you up."

His brow furrowed as she began drying off and he looked away. Since he had been out of Poppy's care, he had the majority of his free time outside of classes with her, though in truth a good deal of that time had been spent working on the mortalis fallax potion. But he still felt awkward when he talked to her about subjects other than potions. 

"I thought you had left again."

She wrapped the towel around her hair and said, "I'm sorry, I just needed to get out."

"It is … alright if you do not wish to stay here," Severus said, but his eyes betrayed the lie and she saw the hurt there.

"Oh, Severus, I _do_ want to stay," she cried, stepping out of the shower and throwing her arms around him. "I didn't go back to my room, those nights, I just walked around the castle until breakfast."

His arms went around her timidly, surprised by how his body remembered her every curve and adjusted itself to her. She was still damp from the shower and he could feel the wetness through the thin silk of the robe, and again he felt himself going hard, but he did not shift away. 

"Can you tell me why?" Severus finally asked as he lay his head against her towel-wrapped head.

She squeezed him tight before saying, "I will, I promise, but not tonight. Right now, I just don't want to talk about it."

He sighed, just a tiny burst of air escaping his lips, and said, "Alright."

Hermione pulled his face down to hers and kissed him deeply before stepping back.

"I promise, we'll talk tomorrow," she said, then a gleam entered her eye and Severus's stomach clenched when she untied his robe and slid her hands up his chest. "Now, let's go back to bed."

~ ~ ~

After their lovemaking, Severus had problems going back to sleep, though Hermione had no difficulty whatsoever. He watched her sleeping form for awhile before giving up on the idea of sleep altogether a little after six. 

After showering and dressing, he summoned a house elf for the morning's Daily Prophet and a pot of tea and sat before the fire as he devoured the paper and sipped tea. He had been watching diligently for anything further on the attack at the quidditch match, but so far they had just printed one article, buried deep in the back of the paper, just a paragraph that mentioned no names and no specifics, not that it surprised him. It would not do for the wizarding public to know that even Harry Potter was not safe from Death Eater ambushes. He folded the paper neatly, since Hermione liked to read it before she went for breakfast in the Great Hall. 

Severus scowled as he thought about her recent behavior, which he had assumed resulted directly from him, until he remembered that she had not returned to her quarters on the nights she disappeared. A thought bubbled up that suggested whatever bothered Hermione was utterly unrelated to Severus. His eyebrows raised at the idea, and he felt foolish for not thinking of that from the beginning. 

His scowl deepened as he considered what to do. She promised to tell him about it today, but he was unsure whether he should broach the subject or wait for Hermione to say something. He decided to wait for her to bring it up, rather than appear overbearing and trespass on her sense of independence. It irritated him how nervous he was over their fledgling relationship, but that did not stop him from worrying.

He realized it was nearly eight, and Hermione would be intolerable all day if she didn't get her coffee before her first class, so he returned to the bedroom to wake her up. She had taken over the bed in his absence, leaving little room for him to sit down. Her eyes fluttered open with the shift in weight and a sleepy smile crossed her face as he trailed his fingertips along her cheek. 

"What time is it?"

"Almost eight."

"Why did you let me sleep so late?" she asked then yawned and stretched her arms. "I have tests I need to finish grading."

"Unless you have a doppelganger here at Hogwarts, Hermione," said Severus dryly and his mouth twitched in what Hermione could now read as a smile, "I should think those students can live another day without those tests."

"Ha ha," she said, smirking as she pushed back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

She brushed her lips against his and slipped through his enveloping embrace, tugged on her jeans and jumper and shoved her underwear into a pocket of her robes as she tugged them on one-handed, all the while continuing to move towards the door.

"I promised I would have them graded today, so I won't be at lunch," she called, her voice floating back as she left the bedroom. "I'll see you after class."

"The paper is on the table, if you want it."

"Thanks, already got it!"

The door slammed and Severus sighed, still seated on the bed, a hand massaging his temples before combing through his already greasy hair. He scowled and felt his good mood dissipate. He snatched his robes from the wardrobe and stalked out the back way of his rooms to check on the potions before class.

~ ~ ~

"Oh, Severus! I was hoping to find you here!" Poloma Sprout squealed as she popped her head in the doorway of the staff room. "I wanted to let you know that this year's mandrakes are maturing at a much faster rate and they will be ready in a few weeks."

"I have no immediate need for them," Severus answered, glancing up at her over the top of his book, "but I might preserve some for an emergency. Perhaps Poppy could use them."

"Of course, I will ask her." Sprout's eyes narrowed and her voice took on a conspiratorial tone. "My third years tell me you took an inordinate number of points from them this afternoon."

"If they wouldn't behave like complete imbeciles, there would be no need, but you can rest assured I took an equal number from Ravenclaw as well."

"Severus!" she chided. "I would have expected you to be more forgiving lately!"

"And why exactly would you expect that?" he snarled and Sprout took a half-step back as he uncrossed his long legs and stood, his tall frame rising over her. "If there is something you wish to ask, I suggest you ask it and stop wasting my time!"

She merely watched him with raised eyebrows as he strode to the door and yanked at the handle. She called his name and he stopped, halfway into the hall, his back to her.

"Severus, I want you to know, regardless of anything, we are happy for you, all of us."

His head whipped around and Severus fixed Sprout with his glare of death before he whirled away, his robes just barely clearing the slamming door. Sprout smiled to herself and left to tell Madam Pomfrey about the mandrakes, as well as to gossip about Severus.

~ ~ ~

Severus stalked through the hallways, Sprout's words following him like ghosts. It angered him to no end that his colleagues knew about his affection for Hermione, but on the other hand, he was thankful the news had not gripped the student body yet. While he could tolerate the smiles and stares and whispers from the other teachers, he would not suffer them from children.

From the start of term until his stint in the hospital wing, Severus had given more detentions -- most with Filch or Hagrid, not himself of course, so that he could continue work on the potion -- and taken away more House points in such a short time than ever before in his teaching career, because it allowed him an outlet for his anger and frustration from Hermione's rejection over the Christmas holidays. That rejection had really hurt and the only way he could continue to work with her on the potion, as was essential, was to take out that pain on everyone else, student or teacher. He continued the streak of punishment upon his release from the hospital wing, because he suddenly feared he would turn into Flitwick and love all of his students unconditionally. Thankfully, that had not happened, and he still hated all students, with a few exceptions that displayed the necessary talent for a further career in potions. 

His eyes narrowed and a nasty smile etched itself across his face as he heard the loud chatter of students around the corner. He waited in the middle of the empty corridor, folded his arms across his chest and adopted his most fearsome glare and waited for the unsuspecting students. 

A trio of third-year Gryffindors came around the corner, two boys and a girl, and they stopped dead in their tracks when they saw the feared Potions Master glaring at them. One of the boys dropped the books he had been carrying in surprise, then scurried to pick them all up again.

"What exactly are the three of you up to this afternoon?" 

All three of them stammered a reply at the same time, but Severus didn't care in the least what they were doing. He glared at each in turn when Hermione rounded the same corner. 

"What's going on?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.

"These three were making excessive noise in the corridors."

"Oh, come on, Severus, they're not doing anything, I was behind them in the hall."

"That will be ten points apiece from Gryffindor," he snarled, his eyes never leaving hers. _How dare she?_ "And I would suggest, _Professor_," his tone making it all too clear that it was not a suggestion, "that you address me more formally in the future." 

Hermione visibly bristled and she opened her mouth to speak, then caught herself and bit her tongue in front of the terrified Gryffindors whose eyes darted back and forth between the two livid teachers.

Quickly, Severus turned on them and snarled, his voice dangerously low, "Well? Why are you still standing there?"

The students darted away, rushing past Severus and out of sight, and he trained his eyes back to Hermione. She nearly staggered back from the force in his eyes, a darkness she could not recognize.

"How dare you address me like that before students!" Severus hissed.

She countered, "They weren't doing anything, and you know it!"

"They were disrupting my peace."

"Disrupting your peace? Are you kidding?" she asked incredulously. "You were probably lying in wait for some unsuspecting students to walk by, and luckily enough for you, they were Gryffindors!"

She thought she saw the corners of his mouth raise, but she couldn't tell for sure as he shrugged and said, "I would have taken points from Slytherin as well."

"Don't give me that bullshit! Everyone knows how much you adore your little Slytherins and hate everyone else."

"I have a reputation to protect."

"What is it with you and your goddamn reputation? Why are you so fucking proud to be the asshole around here?"

"Because that is all I have. Without that, I would receive no respect."

"They don't respect you, don't you get it? Everyone fears you, not respects you, because they're afraid you'll take away points or assign detention or make them feel like idiots over nothing!"

"Fear or respect, it makes no difference to me."

"And what about the teachers?" He merely arched an eyebrow, and Hermione's anger grew measurably on her face. "What about me? Do you want me to fear you as well?"

His eyes narrowed as he stared at her, his lips pursed and he said nothing. 

"I spent too much time in school being intimidated by you, and those seven years were enough to last a lifetime."

She spun on her heel and stormed off, and Severus could only watch her retreating back. He scowled and retreated to the dungeons, his mind on fire as he considered her words.

Perhaps she was right, and he did still want Hermione to fear him, even after all this time, though he didn't think he did, probably just a subconscious reflex trying to push her away. He scowled as he thought she was also right about his punishment of the Gryffindors; most likely, he would not have taken away points if she had not called him by his given name in front of them. He would have to apologize for his actions, there was no other option. 

_Fuck!_

If he was going to apologize, he would do it when he was ready, and so he busied himself in the dungeons until well after dinner.

~ ~ ~

It was nearly ten at night when Severus stood before the entrance to Hermione's rooms, arguing with the witch guarding her door.

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't want to see you," Lucinda stated as she sneered down her nose at him.

The muscles of his jaw spasmed and he wanted to rip the stupid witch from the painting and wring her neck. 

"Will you just tell her I'm here?" he muttered through clenched teeth.

The witch threw a dirty look and swept from the painting. Severus crossed his arms and tapped his toe impatiently as he waited in the hallway. After a few moments, she reappeared.

"Hmmph."

"Well?" he snarled. "Is she coming?"

Lucinda shrugged just as the portrait swung open, with Hermione standing in the opening, and she stepped back to allow Severus entrance. She wore a plain t-shirt and jeans, barefoot with her hair pulled back loosely at the base of her neck.

"A pleasant witch, that one," he muttered and caught her mouth turn up for a second.

"You want some tea?" she asked, motioning to the steaming pot on the table before the sofa, and he nodded.

He followed her and sat wordlessly a few feet from her as she poured a cup of tea and handed it to him. He thanked her and sipped his carefully to keep from burning his tongue on the hot liquid. They drank in silence for several minutes until Severus cleared his voice.

"I would like to apologize for my behavior this afternoon," he said, matter-of-factly.

"And I was wrong to address you as Severus before the students." He inclined his head, but said nothing further. "Did you give back those House points to Gryffindor?" 

"Why would I do that?"

"You were wrong for taking away those points!"

It was one thing for him to apologize to the woman he cared for, but he would not stoop so low as to beg forgiveness from thirteen-year-olds.

"No doubt you'll allow them an extraordinary opportunity to earn back those points your next lesson."

"If you won't give them back, then I suppose I will have to. Is this more about your reputation?" 

Severus noticed the stress she placed on that particular word and allowed a small smile to grace his lips. 

"Yes. You may not understand why I would prefer the students fear me than like me, but that is how I have always operated, and that will not change, I can assure you."

Hermione shrugged, deciding not to pursue the issue further. "If Dumbledore has no problem with it, then I guess it's not my place to say anything."

"Indeed."

The scowl that appeared at his condescending tone vanished as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her across the couch to him, ignoring the teacup that clattered to the floor and the tea that splashed out onto them, the couch and the rug. 

He kissed her deeply, his tongue branding her mouth as his own, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, hands plunging into the locks of greasy hair, pressing against him. After a passionate few minutes, she stood, tugging him up as well, and he did not resist as she directed him to the bedroom.

A half hour later, Hermione lay with her head on Severus's flat stomach as he propped his shoulders back against the headboard, her arm draped across his waist.

"It's time we talked, about what's wrong. Why I keep getting up in the middle of the night."

Her voice was timid and he stroked her hair and said nothing. After a moment, she continued.

"I've been having this dream, it started after New Year's. It never changes, just Harry and Draco and Draco's dying. It starts out with me chasing Harry, and he keeps saying that Draco is dying, and finally I catch up to him at this huge bed. Draco's there and he tells me he's dying then he withers away in front of my eyes."

Severus tilted her face up to his and studied her intently. "Have you been dreaming this every night?"

"Since the attack, yes. But before, I had them once a week or so, but they weren't this intense. I can't sleep afterwards, which is why I keep leaving."

"Have you told Albus?"

She shook her head. "No, just Harry, and now you."

"You told Potter?"

"He came to the castle after the attack -- while you were still unconscious -- and I mentioned it to him in passing. Why?"

"Probably nothing." He continued to stare at her, until he finally said, "There could be more to the dreams than you remember."

She turned away and stared at the painting of sheep grazing on the hillside, and she did not look at him as she asked, "Can you -- could you find out anything I might not remember?"

She felt his sharp intake of breath and knew her question surprised him. 

"You want me to enter your mind?" Severus asked, as if he were unsure of what she had requested of him, astounded that she could even consider it, and she nodded. "Very well."

"We could even do it now," she said, sitting up and turning around to face him. A frown flickered across his face and quickly she added, "Or later, if you'd rather."

Severus looked down at his hands, and he stayed that way for nearly a minute. Finally, he answered, "If you wish to do this now, we will."

He swung his legs around and stood before moving to the scattered clothing that littered the floor. He dug inside his robes and withdrew his wand before returning to the bed. 

"Should we move?"

"No, this will be adequate. Have you ever had a Legilimens inside your mind?"

Shaking her head, she answered, "No. Or at least, not that I'm aware of."

"You do realize Potter is a Legilimens as well." Hermione's eyes widened and she shook her head again. "I realized it when I was giving him Occlumency lessons, and I would expect that talent was recognized during his auror training and he was given further lessons in Legilimency."

"If he took them, I didn't know about it, which is very possible. It seems there's more and more to Harry that I never knew."

"Yes, he is ever the cipher," he quipped, ignoring her glare. "Very well, if you are ready."

"This isn't going to hurt, is it?" she asked suddenly, her rising tone evincing her nervousness.

"No, in fact, you will not be able to actually sense my presence in your mind. However, if you find it unpleasant or uncomfortable, we can stop." 

"No, it's alright." She took a deep breath and exhaled. "I'm ready."

"Maintaining eye contact will help," Severus instructed and she nodded, facing him fully and staring into the abyss of his eyes. "_Legilimens_."

The room disappeared and she was trapped in her own head, memories whirring by like film speeded up way too fast, and she grasped at each one as it soared past. She was four and playing in the blue waiting room of her parents' dentist practice -- eight and eating lunch alone at school -- cheering on Harry, Ron and Ginny at a quidditch match -- helping Neville look for Trevor -- Snape sneering at her for knowing the answer for some forgotten potions question -- Christmas morning, she must've been seven because Grandma and Grandpa were both still alive -- bursting into the sunlight after buying Crookshanks -- dementors swarming her and Harry --

Suddenly the world spun out of control and she landed on her bed and upright in her rooms, with Severus before her. She drew a shaky breath as his empty hand reached for her shoulder. 

"Are you alright?" She nodded and he continued, "I need you to think about Potter and Malfoy, concentrate on the dream because it will make this easier for both of us. Take a moment, then tell me when you're ready."

Hermione closed her eyes and brought up every single detail of the dream, focusing her mind on Harry and Draco, then opened her eyes and looked deep into Severus's.

"Ready."

"_Legilimens_," he breathed, and once more she felt the room slip away.

Draco calling her Mudblood before the entire Slytherin quidditch team and Ron belching up slugs -- the false Moody turning Draco into a ferret and bouncing him while Ron and Harry doubled up laughing -- Harry holding Ron back from punching Draco -- Draco sabotaging her potion -- getting hit in the face with a hex while Harry and Draco dueled and Snape sneering down at her, "I see no difference," and her fleeing, tears streaming down her face as she tore through the hallways, her face buried --

The room came crashing back and she finally focused on Severus, who was leaning back against the headboard, holding a hand over his nose, a trickle of blood leaking out, and she looked down to see her fist balled and knuckles throbbing.

"Oh gods!" she exclaimed and summoned a towel. She filled it with conjured ice and pressed it into the hand covering his nose. "I'm so sorry!"

"No healing spell?"

"I didn't break it, so not much can be done," she said, and Severus wondered if she was telling the truth, or letting him suffer for his past indiscretion. His nose hurt too much and he couldn't concentrate, otherwise he would have found out for himself if she was lying. 

He said nothing, just stared at her as the ice cooled his nose and mind. The memory returned as if it had never vanished to begin with. He remembered that day, how he had come upon the two young wizards with their wands drawn in the corridors, and he had known that Malfoy had started it, because Malfoy always started things just as Severus always looked the other way. He remembered just how his cold voice had sliced through the din as he assigned detentions and took away House points, how he had not paid Hermione any mind.

He was not truly surprised that she still harbored resentment over his treatment of her, though it was mostly subconscious, since she had attacked him with no true intent.

"There is nothing I can say to excuse my behavior at that moment," he said finally, the pitch of his voice unnaturally high from the ice pack on his nose.

Hermione blinked several times, as if that would assist in processing his words, and she said, "Just upholding your reputation, no doubt."

Her words hit their intended target, doing more damage than she expected or wanted, and she wished she could take them back when she saw the look in his eyes. 

"You're right, of course," he softly acknowledged. 

Hermione blinked again, then gently brushed his hand away from his face, inspecting his nose. 

"You're not bleeding anymore. Does it hurt?" She prodded at the hawk-like nose, and he grimaced. "You're not going to die. But I do have something for pain if you'd like it."

Severus eyed her nervously as she jumped off the bed and went into the bathroom, and his voice was cautious as he asked, "Is it experimental?"

She reappeared in the doorway, a scowl prominent on her face, and she returned to the bed with a small orange vial. 

"No, it's not," she said with a scowl, "you'll be pleased to know."

He downed the potion and instantaneously felt the pain melt away.

"Thank you," he said and set the empty vial on the bedstand. "I think we should try again tomorrow. The potions do not require anything further until lunch tomorrow, so we will have all morning."

"Thank Merlin the week's over," Hermione sighed as she climbed back into bed and under the covers. "This was a long one."

He snorted and slipped under the blankets beside her. "Just wait until May and June, and then you will truly understand the meaning of long week, especially just before O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.T.S."

"Thanks for reminding me," she answered with a groan. 

"Stop worrying, preparing students for the tests is much easier than taking them yourself."

"Good, or I'd have to kill myself!"

"That will be unnecessary, I can assure you."

"_Nox_," Hermione muttered and the lights extinguished immediately and she settled back into the crook of his arm, resting her head on his chest. "Thank you, for helping me. With the dream."

"I would not say that I have helped thus far, but we shall sort through this business."

"Thanks just the same. Goodnight."

Severus kissed the top of her head, and lay back in the darkness, listening as her breathing slowed and she drifted off to sleep, and he allowed his thoughts to wander. It was particularly bothersome to him that her dreams began after the attack at the quidditch match, but he wasn't sure if that was significant or not. His thoughts grew cloudy and it grew difficult to keep track of them, so he let himself to fall asleep with Hermione in his arms.

~ ~ ~

Harry stumbled up the stairs to the flat, the toe of his boot catching on last step and sending him crashing into the floor. He lay for a just moment, panting, until he forced himself, first to his knees and eventually to his feet. He leaned against the wall for a moment and caught his breath before continuing down the hallway. 

His hand shook as he unwarded the door, and it took him two tries to get the door open. The flat was dark, the only light from the street lamps outside. He banged his shin against a chair as he maneuvered through the darkness towards the bedroom. 

"_Lumos_," he muttered, as he rubbed his bruised shin and avoided running into the doorway into the kitchen. 

As he entered the bedroom, he paused, watching the bed for any signs of movement, seeing only the gentle rise and fall of Draco's chest, and he thanked the gods that he was still alive. He continued on to the bathroom, flicking on the light switch as soon as he closed the door behind him. He deliberately did not look in the mirror as he tore off his cloak, not stopping until he stood completely naked, and he then turned on the shower and waited for the steam to build. 

He returned to the mirror slowly, rubbing his hands over his biceps for warmth, and he brought his eyes up to his reflection. He could never get used to looking in the mirror and seeing the ice blue eyes staring back at him, the thin face and mane of white blonde hair. He was glad the potion would be wearing off in a few hours. He really hated to look like this at home, especially when he looked better than the real Draco.

The mirror clouded over from the steam, blocking the image of a healthy Draco, and Harry stepped over to the shower and into the hot spray. He stood there at first, head down as the scalding water streamed through his hair and down his back, one hand on a metal bar in the tile, the other on the glass door as he held himself up.

The meeting had not gone well, and he had taken a few _crucios_ for Voldemort's amusement. His shoulders drooped, and he rubbed his eyes roughly with one hand. Now he understood how Snape felt all those years. 

He grabbed a bar of soap and lathered up quickly, not trusting his legs to prop him up for much longer. After he scrubbed his hair and rinsed completely, he grabbed a ratty brown towel from the wall and dried off hurriedly. He picked up his discarded clothes and left the bathroom, lighting his wand again so he wouldn't crash into more furniture. He stuffed the clothes in a hamper, then pulled on a pair of boxers and climbed into bed. 

Harry eased his arm around Draco's chest, spooning up to him, and he moaned in his sleep. Harry wasn't sure how much longer he could take it all, wearing two faces and watching his love die day by day. It was all becoming too much, and truth be told, he didn't care who won anymore, not really, not since Draco would die no matter which side won. Harry sighed and pulled himself closer to Draco's back, closing his eyes and pushing out all errant thoughts, except the one he could never forget. 

_Draco's dying, don't you remember?_

___  
A/N:

So, does this clarify anything for anyone? Let me know! I'm curious to see what everyone thinks is happening. Also, whether H/S are still in character after that big ol' piece of fluff that was chapter 24. (After re-reading, it _does_ seem a bit fluffy to me.)

A reminder to everyone: you can get automatic updates if you: a.) check "Add Author to Favorites;" b.) check "Add Author to Author Alert;" c.) leave me a note in a review and I'll add you to a list.

Again, thank you everyone for reviewing, and even just reading, even if you don't review. And thanks for finally updating Izzy, though now I'm anxious for the promised lemon!! I guess I can't ban you after all! And sorry for the delay … I kept getting bits of the chapter done at one time and it took forever to tie everything together, but I'm aiming for Friday for ch 26. 


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Twenty Six

But Hermione and Severus did not have all Saturday morning to figure out her bizarre dream as originally planned, because it was the morning of what promised to be the best quidditch match of the year, Slytherin versus Ravenclaw. 

Severus snapped up in bed like a new rubber band, jolting himself out of sleep as he remembered the game. It was the game that would decide the Quidditch Cup, though there were still three games left, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor both had weak teams and were already fighting for last place among the Houses. 

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, without meaning to, and he looked over to see if Hermione had woken as he climbed out of bed.

"Hmm?" came the sleepy murmur, and she rolled over to him.

"I nearly forgot the quidditch game this morning, and it would be rather conspicuous if the Head of House were to miss it."

"Shit!" 

Hermione bolted upright and threw back the covers.

"What?" he asked as he sorted through the mess of clothes on the floor for his trousers. "It's not quite ten, so you still have an hour to sleep. I want to talk to Tom Travers before the match."

"It's not that, Ron told me he'd be here early so he could get breakfast before the match."

Severus froze, one leg already in the pants and the other lifted, and he stared at Hermione.

"You invited Weasley?" 

She shrugged as she went to the dresser. "Yes."

"You invited Ronald Weasley to _my_ quidditch match?"

"It's not _your_ quidditch match, and yes, I did invite him," she called over her shoulder, not bothering to look at him. She could feel his glare, so finally she sighed and faced him. "Severus, please. He's my friend."

He growled and finally acquiesced, though not before glaring at her further. "Since I do not have a choice in the matter, I will let it pass."

"Thank you," she said, rolling her eyes, and she pulled out a pair of grey slacks and a blue jumper and started changing.

"You're not wearing green and black to support my team?" 

Hermione stared at him as her head poked through the top of the jumper. "You're kidding, right?" He merely shrugged, and she continued, "Because that would mean me, a Gryffindor, supporting you, a Slytherin, openly."

"Of course, people would talk."

"Honestly, I don't care about the teachers, but do you really want to become the hottest gossip among the students? I know I don't."

"It's bound to happen at some point."

"They don't need to find out before the end of the school year," she said as she pulled on her pants, and she didn't see the mixed look cross his face. When he didn't speak for a moment, she finally looked up at him. "What?"

He had forgotten that she was leaving at the end of the year, but he shook his head and instead answered, "I was thinking about Travers."

"Well, you should go on and talk to him. I need to find Ron."

"I'll be right behind you."

Hermione grabbed her robes on the way out and as she left her quarters she was immediately greeted by the sight of Ron and Ginny Weasley practically running down the corridor to her, and she sighed, wishing the brewing confrontation was already over. She forced herself to smile and hugged her friends.

"Hope you don't mind, 'Mione," Ron said with a grin. "Ginny wanted to tag along and do a little scouting for the Cannons."

"Yeah, my team is such rubbish, I thought I'd check out the seventh years and see if there's anyone halfway decent."

"I'm sure they'd be thrilled at the opportunity to be scouted by you, Ginny."

"Opportunity? To play for the shittiest team --" Ron faltered as he caught sight of Severus striding through the open door, stopping just behind Hermione. "What the --? What the fuck are you doing here, Snape?"

_Doing your best friend, that should be obvious, you prat_, leapt to mind, but Severus settled for an impish smile and arched eyebrow, and judging by the snarl and glare that were returned, Ron got the message. Ginny did not appear shocked, however, and Severus wondered if she had already known, guessed Hermione told her everything. He acknowledged her with a brief nod and she smiled back.

He grasped Hermione's shoulder lightly and leaned against her just enough to twist the knife in Weasley, only tearing his eyes away from Ron's to look at Hermione say, "I'll meet you in the stands then."

"Right."

Ron glared after him, ignoring Hermione as she said his name.

"Ron, I swear to Merlin, if you try anything --"

"Are you -- are you -- gods, I can't even _say_ it!"

"You mean, is she fucking Snape?" Ginny asked and suppressed a grin as Ron sputtered more.

"Gods, Gin! Now I have this horrible mental picture of Snape naked!"

"Oh, grow up, Ron," Hermione said as she slipped an arm around each of them and started back the way they had come. "I don't know about you two, but I'm starving!"

Ginny giggled and said, "All night marathons will do that to you!"

"Ginny, if you don't shut up," Ron threatened from the other side of Hermione, "you won't be able to ride a broom for a month!"

"I think he's just jealous," Ginny pseudo-whispered into Hermione's ear. "I heard him telling Bill it's been more than a year since he got any."

"Ginny!"

He tried to reach around Hermione to get at Ginny, but Hermione pushed him away and laughed, "No wonder he's been so desperate for me to set him up with Anne."

"Anne?" they chorused together. 

"So that's her name!" Ron exclaimed, Ginny's previous insult forgotten. "She gonna be at the match?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know, probably. She was in Ravenclaw when she used to go here."

"It's not like you'd have a chance with her anyway."

"And why not? Who wouldn't want a handsome and charming top Ministry auror?" Both women giggled, and Ron grew defensive. "What?"

"Nothing, Ron," Hermione said, reaching out to reassure him. "You'll make some witch very happy one day."

"Yeah, when you divorce her."

Hermione turned to Ginny, her shoulders shaking with laughter, and between laughs, she scolded the younger witch, and Ron glared at both of them as they neared the Great Hall. 

"You know, I would appreciate some support from my sister and my best friend, but I guess that's too much to ask!"

He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted until Hermione hugged him. 

"You always have my support."

"Yeah, Ron, I was just teasing, c'mon, don't be mad."

He sighed heavily and scratched his head. "Alright, just because I'm too hungry to be mad."

Hermione laughed and clapped him on the back and the trio entered the Great Hall to eat breakfast.

~ ~ ~

Severus sat behind his desk, reading fourth year essays, when there was a sharp rap on the door.

"Come."

The door squeaked open and Tom Travers, the Slytherin captain and a chaser, entered the office and stood before the desk. He was a handsome sixth year, tall and broad-shouldered with sandy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

"Sir?"

"Is your team ready?" 

"Yes, sir. We had three extra practices this week to prepare for Ravenclaw's maneuvers."

"Good, because if you do not win I will add an extra early morning practice every day for the rest of the season."

"Yes, sir. We've been working on defense and --"

Severus cut him off with a glare. "I am not your coach. I do not care what you have been working on, I simply want you to win." The boy's gaze never wavered and he stood there silently until Severus said, "That is all."

Travers nodded, turned on his heel, and marched out of the office. Severus sat back in his chair and scowled at the essays before him.

The match would be the only truly great one of the season, unless Gryffindor or Hufflepuff defied all odds and played a decent game, which was doubtful given the talent -- or complete lack thereof -- on both teams. Ravenclaw had an amazing set of chasers and a good seeker, though their keeper and beaters were just average, but five team members were seventh years. His own team had shown great talent last season, and none would graduate until the following year so Slytherin would be slated to win the Quidditch Cup next year, even if they did not win this year. 

Severus returned to the essay he had been reading and promptly failed it, scrawling notes on the incompetence of the writer to perform the most basic of tasks. He finished the rolls of parchment in less than an hour and decided to catch part of his team's warm-up, so he left the dungeons and strode out the heavy oak doors.

It was going to be a beautiful day for quidditch. The sun shone down from the eyeblue sky, not obscured by the fluffy clouds that littered the heavens, and a brisk wind strolled leisurely through the quidditch pitch. Severus started out for the stands, shielding his eyes against the sunlight, grateful when a cloud slid between himself and the ball of fire. He took the opportunity to watch the field as he walked, and he could see both teams warming up in the cool air. 

He took the stairs up to the teachers' box two at a time, and he was not surprised to see Flitwick standing on the first bench and cheering on his team. Glancing around, Severus could see a great number of students already in the stands watching the dual practices as well.

"Oh, good morning Severus," said the tiny wizard as he clapped vigorously for a properly executed maneuver. "Well done, Perpetua!"

"Filius."

Severus went to the fourth row at the top of the stands and sat, wrapping his cloak about him to seal out the chilly wind after pulling out a pair of omnioculars and training them to the far side of the field where his Slytherins were practicing. Fifteen minutes passed and the Slytherins lowered their brooms to the ground and went inside for their team meeting, and the Ravenclaws quickly followed suit. 

Flitwick faced him and said, "I must say, Severus, you are looking healthier these days."

Severus slowly trained his eyes on the older man. "Am I? I hadn't noticed."

"You must be the only one who hasn't."

"I believe our dear Severus has been getting more sleep than usual," a golden voice boomed from the stairs and Flitwick nearly toppled off the bench in his merriment.

"Thank you, Albus," Severus spat as the Headmaster made his way to his bench.

As he sat down beside Severus, Albus sent Flitwick a meaningful look, which the tiny wizard acknowledged with a wink in return. 

"If you will excuse me, I want to give my team a few words of encouragement. May the best team win."

"Have you already resigned yourself to losing? It's just as well."

"On the contrary, Severus," Flitwick answered with a smile and disappeared down the steps.

Severus turned his head and eyed Dumbledore warily before asking, "Well? What is it?"

The old man smiled at the apparent distrust in his eyes. "I just wanted to see how you are these days, nothing more. Can a Headmaster not worry over his teachers?"

Severus snorted and tore his eyes away from the blue ones that had held him captive. 

"Why do you bother asking me these questions? Don't think I don't notice you poking around in my head." 

"But what I know and what you tell me are often two different things," Albus answered after a moment of contemplation. "It is what you tell me yourself that gives me the greatest insight into your true feelings. You know the limits of legilimency."

Severus's head spun around fast enough to incur whiplash and he fixed the old man with an evil glare, but Albus only laughed.

"There is no need to tell me how much you hate me, for I already know." He looked away to the sky, lost in his own thoughts. "All of the teachers care for you, Severus. Do not forget that."

"And how many of them know of my personal business?" he growled.

"I cannot vouch for Argus as we have not discussed it," Albus said with a smile as he watched Severus flinch at the idea of Filch knowing his private affairs, "but I do believe most of the staff is aware of the situation between yourself and Professor Granger. In fact, Sybill took time out to visit me the other day and she did mention something about forseeing this very occurrence when she had Hermione as a student."

"I'm sure she did," he muttered, ignoring the broad smile on the older wizard's face. "Though you probably expected it as well."

Albus laughed, "I cannot deny that the thought did cross my mind on more than one occasion."

Severus was in the middle of engineering a scathing reply but he stopped when Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Anne appeared at the top of the stairs, followed closely by Minerva and Flitwick, who were chattering on about his team and their chances at the Quidditch Cup. Minerva, of course, wanted any House but Slytherin to take it, and she loaned her own quidditch knowledge to Flitwick to insure his success.

"Hermione, it would seem I am in your seat!" Albus called jovially, and Severus managed a wry smile at Hermione, who had the decency to blush at the Headmaster's brash statement.

"That's quite alright if you wish to sit there, Headmaster," she began, but the old man had already climbed down to meet them, shaking both Ron and Ginny's hands. 

"It's so wonderful to see both of you back here at Hogwarts! Why, it seems only yesterday you were both on this very quidditch pitch leading Gryffindor to victory."

"You played quidditch, too?" Anne asked, and Ron's ears turned pink.

"Yeah, but I wasn't anything as good as Ginny or Harry."

Hermione and Ginny met eyes and both suppressed giggles as they remembered how bad Ron had been when he started. Hermione started up the stands to sit beside Severus and Ginny followed. A few minutes later, Ron started up the stands with Anne behind him, and they still talked animatedly.

"I can't believe she's still talking to him," Hermione whispered to Ginny.

"In case you've forgotten, the only men here are really old," Ginny answered back, and Severus leaned forward to glare at her. She added hastily, "I meant of the available men, Professor."

His scowl softened and he allowed her a small smile, though it quickly faded once Hermione started talking.

"You haven't met Vasily yet! He's the new arithmancy professor since we left, Russian, totally gorgeous -- ow!"

Ginny poked her in the ribs and pointed her eyes at Severus, so Hermione turned to see his glare now directed at her. 

"But he doesn't have the sharp wit and delightful sarcasm that I find irresistible."

Severus's arm slipped around her waist as Hermione leaned into him, her hand on his knee. Ron saw both as he climbed towards them, his eyebrows raising in disbelief before slamming together in a single red line as he scowled at the pair. Severus met his glare, his black eyes slicing through Ron, who finally looked away and sat down on the other side of Ginny.

Over ten minutes, the rest of the teachers filed in, including Vasily, and Ginny agreed that he was gorgeous. A few minutes later, the two quidditch teams walked out onto the field to the applause of everyone in the stadium. Madam Hooch joined them, carrying the trunk with the quidditch balls. 

"It's a great day for quidditch and we've got a great match today: Ravenclaw versus Slytherin!" exclaimed Stephen Stebbins, a vivacious fifth year Hufflepuff who served as the announcer. 

With a blow of the whistle, both teams were up in the air and Madam Hooch loosed the four balls into the air. Ravenclaw got the quaffle first and Perpetua Clearwater, the captain and star chaser, started downfield and passed to another chaser who bobbled the quaffle and it was picked up by Trevor Groot, the best chaser Slytherin had ever had.

"Chaser Frank Fawcett loses the quaffle to Trevor Groot! And it's two-on-one as chaser Balbina Zabini peels away and head towards the goal!"

The two chasers bore down on the keeper Cynthia Ackerley, and Groot pulled towards the left goal, succeeding in luring out the keeper and he rocketed the quaffle back to Zabini, who had veered off to the right goal and tossed the quaffle through for an easy ten points.

"Slytherin's on the board first, 10-0."

Ravenclaw came back with the quaffle, Fawcett carrying it, and he passed it to the third chaser, Kevin Entwhistle, who zipped along, dodging a bludger as she made a long pass to Clearwater, who fired off a quick shot to the goals, through the Slytherin keeper's outstretched hands.

"Ravenclaw answers with some fancy passing, and it's 10-10!"

Andrew Pritchard, a chaser for Slytherin, charged downfield with the quaffle, slowing only to let Bradley Bole knock away a bludger, then passed it off to Groot. 

Severus pulled his omnioculars off of the passing chasers and looked for Travers. He spotted the seeker shadowing Roger Sherwyn, the other seeker, a small fourth year with sharp eyes and even sharper broom handling. His eyes darted all over the pitch, watching for the glint of gold in the yellow sunlight. Just then, Sherwyn dropped his chest to the wooden broom handle and shot forward. Travers waved maniacally at the nearest beater, Keene Broadmoor. Broadmoor took a moment to measure up the diving seeker, then walloped a bludger with precise aim. The bludger caught the tail of the seeker's broom and flipped him over and he toppled over the side.

Minerva gasped and Flitwick covered his eyes as the seeker dangled from his broom one-handed, the other grabbing at the round piece of wood, then he kicked a leg up and swung it over the handle and hoisted himself back up. A relieved cheer went up throughout the stadium, though a loud hiss could be heard from the Slytherins.

"That was a close one! A great shot by Slytherin beater Keene Broadmoor, nearly knocked Sherwyn off completely!"

Severus smirked over at Minerva and Flitwick, who had finally uncovered his eyes and was stretched up on the bench as far as his tiny legs would take him, and he said, his voice slick as silk, "Offense may sell tickets, but defense wins the game."

Madam Hooch blew the whistle and checked to make sure the Ravenclaw seeker was alright before allowing play to continue. Slytherin still retained possession of the quaffle and Groot passed to Andrew Pritchard who slipped past his defender and scored, bringing the score to 20-10.

Ravenclaw chaser Clearwater flew back down the pitch, feinted to the left to avoid Zabini, then hurled the quaffle towards Fawcett, but Pritchard cut through and intercepted the pass for Slytherin as if he had expected it and streaked straight downfield towards the goals.

Severus smirked at Hermione when they scored again, and she said, "Don't get too cocky, they've still got a great seeker."

Sherwyn flew above the pitch, his eyes still darting about, and it appeared his earlier brush with a bludger had not intimidated him, and his Slytherin counterpart still followed behind him. The match progressed below them with the Slytherin defense holding back the Ravenclaw chasers, and Slytherin led 80-30. As Ravenclaw headed downfield with the quaffle, Travers spotted the winged ball of gold and shot towards it, knowing he only had a few seconds jump on the opposing seeker. 

"Watch out, it looks like they've both spotted the snitch!"

The crowds rose to their feet as they watched the two seekers dueling with their brooms high above the ground, and gasped as one when a stray bludger caromed towards Sherwyn, and he dropped straight down to avoid it, though it put him off the snitch. 

Groot, the Slytherin chaser, pulled away from the action surrounding the quaffle and rammed brooms with the Ravenclaw seeker, pushing him off course, and cries of "Foul" pierced the air from the pitch and the stands, but Madam Hooch did not see it and play continued. While Sherwyn struggled to catch up, Travers stretched out, coaxing a little more out of his Nimbus 3000, until the snitch dropped twenty feet and darted to the left, straight into the path of Roger Sherwyn. 

"I don't believe it! Roger Sherwyn's got the snitch! Ravenclaw wins! Final score, 180-80!"

The crowds erupted, except for the Slytherins, whose boos and hisses could still be heard through the din, and Hermione looked at Severus, his arms crossed and a terrible frown upon his face, and she hesitantly reached her hand up to his arm. He slowly exhaled the breath he had taken when the Ravenclaw seeker grasped the snitch then turned to Hermione, his face tired.

"Well, Gryffindor could beat Ravenclaw," she said hopefully, and Severus only snorted.

"I shall have to wait another year to reclaim possession of the Quidditch Cup. But at least it won't be in Minerva's office," he added.

"I'm sure she's thinking the exact same thing."

Ginny poked her in the ribs and said, "We're going up to the Three Broomsticks, you wanna go? You too, Professor Snape."

"I'd love to go," Hermione answered at once and turned back to Severus who shook his head.

"I must attend to the potion."

"You sure you can't put it in stasis and go with us?" Again he shook his head, and she decided not to press the issue. She was perfectly happy with settling for a casualty free quidditch match. "Then I'll stop by when I get back."

"That will be fine," Severus answered as he stood, long fingers clutched hers for a brief moment and their eyes met before he started down the stands, stopping to congratulate Flitwick and shake his hand, and Hermione smiled to herself. 

"I guess he's not too bad when he's civil, 'Mione," Ginny said, watching Severus as he spoke to Minerva then turned to give Hermione one last look before starting down the stairs.

"That and he doesn't hate you. I still don't really understand his utter hatred of Harry and Ron." Hermione leaned forward to see Ron and Anne still locked in conversation, even though the match had ended and the stands were emptying. "Gods, he must've bewitched her or something."

"Are you kidding? He couldn't do a love charm or potion to save his life."

"Then maybe she really likes him."

"Considering the alternative is that hunk over there, she must like him, or she's a lesbian." Ginny continued to check out Vasily Borodin, who was chatting with Flitwick. "Hey, you think Vasily'd fancy a drink with us?"

Vasily did in fact join them on the trip to Hogsmeade, as did Minerva, Hagrid and Flitwick, once they heard the invitation, and to Ginny's chagrin, she was unable to talk much with Vasily. The hours passed quickly, and before anyone realized it, night had fallen. Ginny and Ron said their goodbyes, Ron slipping a piece of paper into Anne's hand, and they disapparated.

The remaining teachers walked back to Hogwarts and parted ways at the entrance hall. Hermione went downstairs to the dungeons. She and Severus ate dinner in the laboratory and spent most of the evening there with the potions. Hours later, they retired to his nearby quarters and she fell quickly to sleep.

As Hermione lay dreaming again of Harry and Draco, Severus lay beside her, delving into the darkness of her mind, which was completely unguarded while she was dreaming. 

It only took a moment before he was sucked into her dream, Hermione surrounded in fog, Harry's voice floating through the smoke like an apparition. 

"Draco's dying, don't you remember?"

Severus peered into the fog surrounding them, but he could not make out the floating ghosts there, the memories that hovered so close but still out of reach, so he followed behind her as she ran, keeping alert. The disembodied voice grew closer, until they found Harry standing before a great bed. Draco lay there, like a living skeleton and his head turned slowly to face her, his cold blue eyes looking through them. 

"I'm dying, don't you remember?"

Draco withered away, his skin falling through bones, white hair blowing away, leaving only the skeleton, and Harry climbed up on the bed with him.

Hermione gasped awake, and Severus saw a fragment, a glimpse at something she had forgotten, a vision of very ill Draco lying in bed, before it disappeared and he pulled away from her mind and pulled her into a tight embrace. He held her until her breathing slowed and she grew calm. 

"Well?" she asked.

"I think there's a memory charm there, a strong one. I saw something, just a piece of something larger that seems to have been forcibly removed."

"Can you get it back?"

"Possibly. It will take more time."

"What -- what do you think happened?"

Finally Severus answered, his voice quiet, "I think you have an idea."

"It was Harry, wasn't it? He did this."

___  
A/N:

I know, I know, I said I'd have it up yesterday, but hey, today is a year I've been writing this fic, so I think it's even better this way! So why don't you reward me for a year's worth of hard work by reviewing!

Sorry for the delay, work seriously sucked this last week, so I spent most of today writing. I hope it proves worth the wait. As always, please R/R and let me know if you want to be added to the email list for chapter updates. 


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Twenty Seven

Severus sat before Albus Dumbledore, his eyes burning black holes into the Headmaster who stared back with equal ferocity. 

"Severus, you understand how dangerous an attempt at retrieval of lost memories can be."

"But there is something more important here! I know it, and Potter is behind it, I'm sure of it!"

"And what if Harry has erased Hermione's memories? What do you expect to find?" Severus did not have a ready answer for the question and averted his eyes to the fire. "There are secrets that must still be kept from even the most faithful. I will ask that you refrain from further attempts to retrieve those memories."

He knew the subject was closed, that Albus would entertain no further discussion on the matter, and he scowled as he rose from his chair by the fire. 

"You're making a mistake by placing so much faith in Potter," he snarled as he matched stares with the older wizard. "Mark my words!"

Severus spun on his heel, his robes flapping as he stormed from the office. 

~ ~ ~

Harry Potter rubbed his eyes and stared at the sleeping figure in the bed beside him. Draco was getting worse, he could no longer delude himself into believing otherwise. He rose from the chair and left the room, unable to think clearly. He paced the living room, ignoring the clutter on every surface, the dingy furniture, consumed only by his thoughts, which seemed to be growing more focused on Voldemort. 

Surely Voldemort would know how to counteract the ancient curse that was slowly killing Draco, the Dark Lord would know such a dark curse. But how could he approach him without revealing everything, Draco's condition, Harry's own deception and work as a spy against him? Voldemort would certainly kill him, Harry Potter, for it was destined that one should kill the other. He shivered abruptly as the prophecy from so long ago bubbled to the surface of his conscious mind and he hugged himself. 

He threw himself into a ratty armchair and held his head in his hands. He stayed like that for the greater part of an hour before he finally stood and walked purposefully to the kitchen, which had been turned into a make-shift laboratory. He found the vial he sought after and downed it in one gulp. He resisted the urge to retch as his insides twisted and his skin flared as if on fire, but it passed, and he looked at the long, tapered fingers of his left hand. His clothes felt baggy, for Draco was still smaller than himself, even while healthy, but Harry opted not to change, instead pulling on a black cloak. He would not be gone long enough for it to matter, and since he had taken the regular polyjuice and not the extended version, he would be back to himself quickly enough. 

He stopped at the door as to reassure himself that he was doing the right thing, then left the flat without a backwards glance. And so Harry turned to the only man who could provide exactly what he needed without asking all sorts of unnecessary questions: Albus Dumbledore.

~ ~ ~

Hermione sat in her office, staring out the window at the drizzle that had held her and the rest of the castle hostage for the last few days. So far March had been grey and rainy and only added to her dark demeanor. Severus had made little progress in breaking the memory charm, though he continued to work on it nightly, despite Dumbledore's admonition that he leave things alone. 

The argument had created a noticeable rift between Albus and Severus, though Hermione refrained from holding a grudge against the Headmaster. She knew he was only trying to protect her from possible harm, as well as protecting Harry from whatever it was he was still doing without supervision. But Hermione was beginning to have her own doubts about her best friend, especially when the dreams were increasing in frequency. 

It was getting harder for her to sleep at night, and Severus's presence was the only thing that allowed her any peace of mind. It calmed her just knowing that he was there with her in her dreams, even if she couldn't see him, knowing that when it was over, he would be there to comfort her. 

She turned back to the tests she had been ignoring for the last half hour and attempted to concentrate, but her mind kept returning to the dream and Harry. She wanted desperately to seek out Severus's company since he would easily reassure her, but he was in the middle of a double potions. She laid down the quill she had been absently playing with and sighed. 

She stood and was about to begin brewing a pot of tea when a noise from the fireplace startled her and she looked around to see the head of Albus Dumbledore amid green flames. 

"Professor Granger, might I have a word with you in my office?"

Hermione overcame her surprise in an instant and answered, "Of course, sir, I'll be right there."

She left the office quickly and headed for the Headmaster's office. She spoke the password to the gargoyle, who let her in soundlessly, and she rode the stairs to the open door. 

"Hermione, please, come in, and have a seat." From behind his desk, Albus gestured to a teapot that chirped happily and asked, "Would you care for some tea, my dear? I was just going to have a cup myself."

She smiled as she sat before the great desk and answered, "Yes, please. I was just about to make up a pot in my office when you called."

"How fortuitous for both of us then, that we do not have our tea alone."

He poured two cups and handed one to Hermione and she sipped it carefully. Dumbledore smiled at her over his half-moon glasses as he drank his tea and they sat in silence. 

"How are you doing? Everything alright?" he asked after they both set down their cups and saucers. 

She shrugged. "More or less." 

"The classes are not too much, I hope."

"No, they're fine, and I'm thankful I no longer have to teach the first and second years. That freed up a lot of time to spend with the potion."

"As I hoped it would. And are things progressing there as well?"

"We haven't made any major breakthroughs in awhile, but that's to be expected, though it is quite disappointing."

"Yes, I would imagine." His blue eyes regarded her for a moment. "And how is Severus? He is quite adept at avoiding me when he wishes."

"He is that. I think he's okay. Still upset, but he'll get over it. Eventually."

"And yourself? Are you upset with me as well?"

Quiet descended upon the room as Hermione stared into the rising flames in the fireplace, until she finally met his gaze and said, "Not anymore. I was at first, but then I was able to see that you're just trying to protect all of us."

Again Dumbledore watched her, the lines in his face becoming pronounced, and his bright blue eyes showing his tiredness. 

"Whatever is hidden in your mind, I believe it was done so with good intentions rather than evil. If Harry were to be … compromised, it would mean his death and Voldemort would triumph. That is why I ask you not to pry into those locked memories, for all of our sakes."

"But what if it's something I need to know? What if it's important?"

The old man shook his head. "I am afraid we must place our trust in Harry, for he is the only one who can defeat Voldemort."

_But can he do it alone?_ she asked herself, though she did not give voice to her doubt. 

"Would you care for some Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans?" Dumbledore asked as he pushed the dish full of colorful candies towards her. She declined and after a beat he said, "I'm afraid I must leave to speak with Hagrid. I have received a number of complaints from parents regarding some new crossbreed he has been working on lately." 

Hermione suppressed a shudder as she remembered her own experience with one of Hagrid's previous attempts at crossbreeding, the Blast-Ended Skrewt. 

"I must get down to the dungeons anyway. I need to check on the potion."

"Perhaps I shall accompany you on my way to see Hagrid. I have not seen it recently, and Severus does not care for my presence while he is working."

"He's in class at the moment so we'll have the laboratory to ourselves."

They left Dumbledore's office and headed for the dungeons, all the while chatting about the Quidditch Cup. They talked about last week's match, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, which Gryffindor had won in possibly the most dull quidditch match ever, and also about the next match in April, Slytherin against Hufflepuff, which barring a miracle for Hufflepuff, Slytherin would easily win. They both agreed that it seemed Ravenclaw would win the Cup unless Gryffindor managed to pull out a win against them in the last House match. 

When they reached the spare classroom that served as the laboratory, Albus listened while Hermione patiently explained the different cauldrons to him, all the while nodding to show he understood the complex potions work they had been performing. 

"Could I have a sample of the potion?" Albus asked after she had finished with her explanations. "There is someone that I should like to see this."

"Sure," Hermione answered, not giving the request a second thought. She added, "Just as long as it doesn't make its way into Voldemort's hands, I'm sure it will be fine."

She went to the cupboard where Severus had been storing the finished mortalis fallax potion and poured some into a small glass vial and stoppered it. She handed the potion to Albus and said, "There is enough for two doses there."

Albus took it with a smile and his blue eyes twinkled as he tucked it away inside his robes. "Thank you, my dear. Do keep me informed on the potion as I am afraid Severus will not. If you will excuse me, I must now see Hagrid regarding his creatures. Thank you again for the potion."

With a wave, the Headmaster slipped out the door and Hermione examined Severus's notes, the incident already forgotten. 

~ ~ ~

Hermione thought it unremarkable that Albus Dumbledore would request a sample of the mortalis fallax potion, seeing as it was experimental and he had been monitoring their progress closely, and so she didn't mention the incident to Severus until several days later.

"What?" he hissed, his voice dangerously quiet. "Albus took the potion and you did not tell me? Why the hell not?"

"I didn't see the harm in it --"

"Didn't see the harm in it?" he repeated, his eyes narrowing. "No part of that potion leaves this room without my prior approval, do you understand? I don't care if it's Albus Dumbledore, the Minister or Harry bloody Potter!"

Hermione didn't see why he was upset and she told him as much. "What's the big deal if Dumbledore has the potion? It's not like he'll give it to Voldemort."

"This is my potion and no one else touches it," he said, his black eyes proclaiming the matter closed from further review, and he retreated to his chair by the fire. 

Hermione watched him from her post by her potion while her mind worked. 

"You think he'd send it to Harry? Is that what you're afraid of?" Severus glared at her in response. "I know Harry might be acting peculiar, but I think Dumbledore's right. We have to trust him."

"You of all people should not be so willing to trust him!" He added, his voice deliberately slow, "Or have you already forgotten his deception?"

"No! But I do think that maybe there's more going on than we know about and maybe we should stay out of it!"

His eyes narrowed. "So Albus did more than just take the potion."

"We talked, yes, if that's what you're implying. And suppose he's right? Maybe we should just leave things alone."

"Does that mean you do not care to uncover your lost memories?"

She opened her mouth to answer then closed it, her brow furrowing as she thought. "I don't know. He asked me not to, but they're _my memories_, and I feel I have a right to them, regardless of what Harry's trying to hide."

"Very well," Severus answered, repressing a triumphant smile. "We shall do nothing until we have determined what is being hidden."

Hermione agreed, and secretly she hoped that it was nothing, though she knew better.

___  
A/N:

I apologize for the super short chapter, but I'm about to start my second week of vacation and I wanted to post something w/out leaving everyone hanging in suspense. As a general warning, the next few chapters are probably going to be posted sporadically because the end is approaching (generally speaking) so I'm going to try to get everything worked out before hand, especially since I've always had a hard time finishing stories. So it will probably be two weeks between chapters. Also, this chapter is being posted w/out being edited, so please let me know if you spot a typo or grammar mistake … I'll fix it as soon as I get back. 

Another thing, I now have an address here at ff.net, so if you wish to email me, it's enlightenedkitty@fanfiction.net. Please review! The reviews have been kinda slow lately and I need reassurance.

Thank you Darklady … it has been very difficult to keep writing this continuously … in fact, I dream of the day I'm done! (Just so I can write other stuff, really!) And dedanaan, I think it was fortuitous that you started reading when you did! (Sorry about the cursing, I do it a lot!) Chise, someone, Marston, ponine, Anarane, two words to each of you: thank you! 


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Twenty Eight

Harry paced the dingy living room of the small flat, his nervous energy propelling him back and forth as Draco watched helplessly, unable to reassure and calm his lover. There was to be a meeting tonight with the Dark Lord, the inner most of Voldemort's followers. Harry felt the knots in his stomach twist and tighten. 

"Sit down, you're making me nervous," Draco groused from the sofa, but he already _was_ nervous, as he always was when Harry had to perform this charade. "You should take the polyjuice soon anyway."

Harry nodded tersely and only stopped his pacing to say, "In a minute."

He finally sat down beside Draco, and Draco slid an arm around him, pulling the dark head down to his shoulder, and they sat in silence, as no words could convey properly each other's thoughts, nor were they necessary. 

A few minutes later, Draco jerked away, clutching at his left forearm and he grimaced, wincing from the sharp pain, and Harry leapt to action. He hurried to the kitchen and grabbed a dose of the polyjuice potion and gulped it, ignoring the repulsive taste, leaning against the counter as the potion took hold. He returned to the living room where Draco remained seated and, without looking at his mirror image, offered his left arm to Harry, where the Dark Mark still burned on his skin. 

Harry took the arm and gently pressed two fingers against the flesh of the mark, still expecting the skin to sear him even though he knew it was cooler than the rest of Draco. He closed his eyes and his mind and exhaled, and suddenly an image appeared, a destination, his destination. An old house, surrounded by heavy trees and mountains, and Harry fixed the picture in his mind.

He leaned down and kissed Draco swiftly, so that he could not be caught up in an embrace. It would cost him his life if thoughts of his affection for Draco appeared while he was in Voldemort's presence, and Draco understood it as well, and so let him go without protest. Harry left the flat without a parting glance and left the building for his usual alleyway. He patted the inside pocket of his cloak, withdrew the lump that was a small vial and swallowed its contents then dropped it among the piles of trash. Harry murmured a prayer to the gods and closed his eyes, returned to the image of the house in his mind, and disapparated. 

The moon hung low over the trees, unobscured by the jagged peaks of surrounding mountains, and the trees reached up, stretching from the tips of their roots to the glowing orb. As Harry neared the unlit house, he made out the dark outline of Peter Pettigrew waiting for him at the door.

"Took your sweet time, Malfoy," he hissed, his rat-face screwed up into a frown. "Everyone else has already arrived."

Pettigrew had always been jealous of one Malfoy or another; originally it had been Lucius, and Voldemort's trust in him, and now the son had replaced the father. 

"The Dark Lord will not be pleased--"

"Then let him deal with me himself, rather than his lackey," Harry replied coldly, resisting as ever the urge to rip limb from limb the cowardly man who had betrayed his parents, and he looked forward to the day he could exact his own revenge. But to do so tonight would be counter-productive to everything he wished to accomplish. "Where are they, Wormtail?"

Pettigrew scowled and, turning on his heel, stormed through the house without answering, and so Harry followed, his guard up. They moved quickly through the dark house, through rooms with covered furniture and the floors heavy with dust and footprints, until they reached a dimly lit dining room. He scanned the room as he made his way to show his respect, taking stock of everyone present, aware of the red eyes following his every movement as he dropped to his knees.

"Draco." 

"My Lord."

The two closest chairs to Voldemort were already filled: Dmitri Borodin, Voldemort's chief supporter in Russia, as well as the rest of Eastern Europe; and a dour witch named Ingrid Wechsler, who was in charge of rounding up supporters for the Dark Lord's cause. Harry had expected there to be more Death Eaters, but was unsurprised because of Voldemort's notorious lack of trust. This was probably not the first of such meetings, nor the last. 

Harry took a chair beside Ingrid as Pettigrew moved to stand at Voldemort's side, his beady eyes ever on Draco, and he muttered, "Now that everyone's present."

"My dear Wormtail, let us not begin things on such an unpleasant note," Voldemort chided, "not when we have such important matters to discuss. Ingrid, please begin."

Withdrawing a folded parchment from her blood red robes, she cleared her throat and laid the paper open on the table before his red snake eyes which darted about greedily.

"The first group, over fifty witches and wizards, will be gathering here, in just over two weeks," she said, pointing to a marked spot in Russia. "Vasily has graciously agreed to quarter them as necessary until we are ready to begin the final attack."

"How kind, Vasily," the Dark Lord purred, his lips stretching in a grotesque smile, and Borodin acknowledged him with a gracious smile and nod. "You may continue."

"A second group of thirty will arrive in Paris shortly after to join your French supporters."

"Yes, just in time. All plans have been completed for the French Ministry?"

"Yes, my Lord. I will oversee things there personally."

"You have my complete trust in this matter, Ingrid. What of the plans for Fudge?"

"They are being finalized as we speak, my Lord."

Harry listened with abject boredom on his face, though his mind raced. Things were proceeding much faster than anticipated, and he did not fully know what was happening in France. He forced away the errant thoughts as the red eyes drifted to him. 

"Draco."

"The potion? I have obtained through … deceptive means," he said with a twist of a smile, "a sample of the current potion. The previous one must have been contaminated for I was never able to replicate it successfully. However, I have already begun brewing my own and it should be ready for testing immediately." 

"What chances are there of counteracting the potion?" 

"None without completely tearing apart the _avada kedavra_ spell and crafting a way around it, which would require months, if not years of research and refinement," said Harry. "However, the effects of the potion cannot last forever. I have heard rumors around the Ministry that even though Snape survived three hits of the killing curse, he did so on the verge of death. One more curse would have finished him off."

"That's reassuring," griped Pettigrew as he moved towards Harry. "We'll just have to all stand around and cast--"

"Wormtail, that is enough," his master hissed, and he stepped back submissively, still glaring at Harry, who placidly ignored him. "Surely even you can cast the four killing curses required to defeat it."

"If we have the necessary surprise, my Lord, then the potion will be ineffective because it requires half an hour to become potent," he added.

"It will most certainly be a surprise," Voldemort hissed, a smile slithering across his face. "What of Harry Potter?"

He shrugged and answered, "As far as I can determine, he is still in exile from the Ministry."

"And the Ministry?" 

"The Ministry is completely unprepared for an attack right now. They are vulnerable."

"Very well. Vasily, anything new from the Russians?"

"No, my Lord, they are still cooperating fully, and I believe they will continue to do so as long as they perceive you to be the strongest."

Voldemort nodded and quiet descended upon the room as he surveyed the three sitting at the table before him. 

"You are my most faithful of Death Eaters, and you shall be rewarded above all when our long struggle has reached its end, an end which grows nearer by the day. You will be summoned again soon." 

With that dismissal, Ingrid and Vasily rose and nodded at their master while Harry remained seated as they filed out silently, Harry keeping his eyes on Voldemort, until only he, the Dark Lord and Wormtail remained in the room.

"Is there something further, Draco?"

"Yes, my Lord, but it is concerning a matter of which I must speak to you alone."

"What impudence!" Pettigrew exclaimed as he rushed to the table and leaned across. "I am the Dark Lord's most faithful servant and --"

"Leave us Wormtail," Voldemort said, his voice low, and glowering, Pettigrew complied. Voldemort turned back to Harry and said, "Come closer, and tell me what it is you wish to discuss."

Harry acknowledged and moved to a chair directly beside Voldemort. He took a deep breath and began.

"My Lord, this is a matter of extreme importance to me and I require your assistance, for you are the only wizard who might have the answer I seek." The thin face nodded, and he continued. "There is an ancient curse my father used on many people, including someone close to me, and I have been unable to find a countercurse. I have spoken with Healers, as well as wizards and witches in the top of their fields in curses, and no one has heard of such a curse."

"And you wish for me to provide you with a countercurse."

"Yes, my Lord."

"And what shall I receive in turn?"

"Whatever you wish, my Lord."

"Bring me Harry Potter and I shall find your countercurse."

"That I cannot give you, my Lord."

"And why not?" Voldemort asked, his red eyes glowing with curiosity.

After a long pause, he finally answered, "Because I am Harry Potter."

"How can that be possible?" he hissed, disbelief evident in his voice.

Harry withdrew his wand from his cloak and set it on the table between them, as well as a small vial, which he unstoppered and poured down his throat. Almost instantaneously, he felt all the cells in his body quiver and quake and his clothing grow uncomfortably tight as his body returned to its rightful self.

"As you can see, it is possible. I have just taken a potion which counter acts polyjuice potion."

Harry offered his left forearm for Voldemort's inspection, the skin pale and absent of the Dark Mark, and he leapt up and his chair clattered to the floor as he withdrew his wand and pointed it at the scar on Harry's forehead and his wand flew from the table to Voldemort's open hand.

"I do not know how you have tricked me, but you shall now die, Potter, and the prophecy will be complete at last." 

His red eyes glowed like dying embers as he swept the wand towards Harry wordlessly. A shock hit him, and Harry jolted in his chair, felt as if all the muscles in his body clenched simultaneously, but death did not come. After a moment, he recovered enough to speak, though he continued to breathe heavily.

"I've taken the mortalis fallax potion, so it will take you a few more of those to kill me. Before you do, you should listen to what I've to say."

Voldemort eyed him warily before nodding, though he kept his wand still level with Harry's forehead.

"I have been passing as Draco since before Lucius's death, which has provided me with a multitude of opportunities to kill you. However, I did not. Does it not intrigue you that I have refrained from killing you when I so easily could have?"

"You would have died yourself, had you attempted to kill me. My loyal Death Eaters would not have allowed you to escape with your life."

"That is true," Harry acknowledged. "But I was willing to sacrifice my life in order to take yours. However, Dumbledore forbid it. He only wanted me to keep him apprised of your activities and plans, nothing more."

"Why do you reveal yourself to me, now? You must realize I cannot let you live, not with everything you have seen and heard tonight."

"You _will_ let me live because I will turn over Hogwarts to you, as well as the mortalis fallax potion. All I ask in return is a countercurse to that which Lucius Malfoy placed on the real Draco."

"You would betray your precious Dumbledore and all that he has fought for?" Voldemort asked, his nostrils flaring. "I do not believe you."

"Then administer Veritaserum and you will know it is the truth," Harry said as he withdrew another vial from his cloak and set it on the table. "Or use your own, if you do not trust mine. It makes no difference to me."

Voldemort righted his chair and sat back down and contemplated Harry for a long moment. Finally, he said, "Very well, Potter. I shall use Veritaserum from my own stores and we shall see if you are telling the truth. Restore your disguise." 

As Harry pulled out yet another vial and downed it, the Dark Lord touched the Dark Mark on his own arm, then lowered his wand below table level, still pointed at Harry. Almost immediately, a sullen Pettigrew appeared in the doorway, his eyes darting between the two wizards.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"I need Veritaserum, now."

Wormtail nodded and disappeared, and Harry and Voldemort watched each other silently while they waited. Finally, Pettigrew returned with the potion and gave it to his master, a multitude of questions on his face, though he knew he would be denied any answers.

"Leave us."

Once they were alone again, Voldemort administered the potion and waited for it to take effect.

"Who are you?"

"Harry Potter," he answered tonelessly.

"Why have you been masquerading as Draco?" 

"To spy on Voldemort and his followers."

"For how long?"

"Since Lucius Malfoy left him for dead last April."

"What happened?"

"Lucius beat him and cast an unknown curse on him and left him for dead. I found him and nursed him back to health, but now he is dying from that curse."

"How have you found me whenever I have called a meeting?"

"By touching Draco's Dark Mark, though my link with Voldemort, I am able to see a picture in my head of the place, and so am able to apparate there."

"Why have you not attempted to kill me?"

"Dumbledore ordered me to spy only."

"Do you intend to kill me now?"

"No."

"Why do you wish to betray Dumbledore and Hogwarts?"

"To find a cure for Draco."

"You would sacrifice your friends for your lover?"

"Yes."

"Will you alert Dumbledore to our plans?"

"No."

"Then will you join with me?"

"Yes, if it will save Draco."

Voldemort leaned back in his chair and studied the younger man before him. He smirked, his lips thin and stretched across his face. 

"Very well, Harry Potter. I shall allow you to leave here tonight, alive, but I will summon Draco in two days and you must return with the secrets of Hogwarts, as well as the potion, or I shall kill you, make no mistake. After we successfully destroy Hogwarts and that fool Dumbledore, I shall give you Draco's countercurse."

Harry nodded and answered, "Yes, my Lord. I understand."

"You are dismissed." 

"My wand, my Lord. I shall need it when I go to Hogwarts."

Distrust flickered through the red eyes, but he handed the wand to Harry. 

"May it be understood, Potter, that if you are to betray me now, you can not conceive of the repercussions to everyone you hold dear, and I shall take great pleasure in destroying you myself."

"Yes, my Lord. I shall not betray you."

"Send in Wormtail."

Harry acknowledge him and left the room quickly, and Pettigrew hovered just outside the door, despite the anti-eavesdropping charm on the room.

"Finished, are you?" he asked, a snarl in his voice. 

"The Dark Lord wishes to see his …" Harry paused as a smirk emerged from his lips and his eyes narrowed, "his most faithful servant immediately. You had better hurry, Wormtail, for he might need you to perform some menial task."

"Nothing is menial for my master!"

"Tell me, Pettigrew, did he discipline you duly for that botched attack on Potter and Snape?" Harry asked, the smile disappearing as his silver eyes grew sharp and his voice cold. "I should hope so, for failure like that should be rewarded only with castigation."

The small man jerked back as if Harry had physically assaulted him, and his clenched jaw quivered in rage, and Harry knew that his punishment must have indeed been severe. Wormtail smiled, a false and obvious smile that gave no reassurance.

"The Dark Lord rewards us as he sees fit."

"Of course. You'd better hurry along before he rewards you again."

Harry turned on his heel and swept through the hallway, leaving a speechless Pettigrew in his wake. He pulled his cloak tight around him as he emerged into the cool spring night, then moved away from the house before closing his eyes and apparating back to his street.

He did not dally, as he would on most nights returning from a meeting with Voldemort, a practice which allowed his thoughts to settle and his mind to relax before returning home. Not tonight, for he had a singular purpose and he went back to the flat quickly.

Draco still sat on the couch when Harry entered the flat, though he leapt to his feet and raced across to the door and grasped his lover by the shoulders. 

"Harry! Are you alright? That took longer than normal!"

"I'm fine," he answered, and gave Draco a quick kiss on the cheek before pushing past him. "I may have found a cure for you."

"What? A cure? How?"

"Voldemort," he said as he moved to the kitchen. 

He downed the potion that changed him back to himself, then strode down the hallway.

"Harry," Draco breathed, his grey eyes clouding as he followed Harry into the bedroom, "what have you done?"

"What I had to do to keep you alive."

Harry dug through the trunk at the foot of the bed and pulled out a silvery cape that shimmered and rolled like mercury when he tossed it on the foot of the bed.

"But what --"

"I'm going to Hogwarts. I'll be gone at least a day."

Harry pulled off his clothes and tossed them in a heap on the floor before pulling out a pair of black trousers and a red jumper, which he tugged on immediately.

"What about my potion?" 

"I'll be back in time for that."

"Harry, what are you doing? Why are you going --"

"Draco, trust me. I'll be back soon."

Harry grabbed the invisibility cloak and moved back down the hallway, through the living room and back to the door. He paused momentarily to wait for Draco.

"I love you," he mumbled into Harry's shoulder as his arms went around him.

"Me, too," came the soft reply, and Draco couldn't see the tears that swam in the green eyes. "More than you know."

Abruptly, Harry pulled back from the embrace and slipped out the door, leaving Draco for the second time that night to sit up and worry.

___  
A/N:

Alright, I feel awful for taking so long with this chapter, but it's probably good that I did, since the extra time allowed me to work everything out. It'll probably be two weeks between chapters from here on out, maybe less. I really hope Ch 28 was worth the wait. Let me know if it wasn't.

To all of you who've reviewed, unless you're a writer and have been here before, near the end and floundering, you can't understand how much you all mean to me. If it weren't for you, I would've moved on to something else -- I have a few stories eating away at me at the moment -- but I couldn't leave this unfinished while I have people eagerly awaiting the next chapter, and I think finishing this is helping me as a writer. Again, thank you, especially those of you who review every chapter (or two) … I appreciate it. 


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Twenty Nine

"Now, who can tell me the differences between a regular wolf and a true werewolf?" asked Hermione of her third year Ravenclaws.

As she had drawn up the lesson covering werewolves for the third year students, it amused her to no end that she had received first-hand lessons in them during her own third year, and she wondered what Remus Lupin was doing currently. She had not spoken with him since early summer, well before school began.

One student, the smartest boy among all of the third years, held up his hand and said, "The wolf has a longer snout while the werewolf --"

The door to the classroom flew open, crashing against the wall and sending a painting clattering to the floor amid shrieks from its occupant. Hermione, who had been moving through the rows of desks, whirled around to confront the intruder, surprise registering as she glimpsed Severus standing in the doorway.

"Can I help you Professor?" she asked cautiously, for she could recognize the pure fury on his face.

"What has happened in the dungeons?"

His voice was dangerously quiet and the students in the back of the classroom leaned forward, straining their ears, though all were wise enough to avoid meeting the livid Potions Master's eyes.

"What? The dungeons?"

"Perhaps we should continue this discussion outside," he said, his dark eyes surveying the students, "away from prying ears."

Severus turned on his heel, his robes billowing behind him through the door and, after instructing the students to continue reading the current chapter, Hermione followed him into the hall and pulled the door shut behind her.

"Now, what's going on? I haven't been in the dungeons since before class this morning."

"Someone has destroyed the laboratory."

"What?"

"All of the potions have been overturned, and the reserve potion is missing, as are my notes."

"What -- how is that possible? How could anyone --"

"That is irrelevant at this point."

"Have you told Albus?" He shook his head. "Then we better go find him."

"Your class?"

"Hang on." Hermione opened the door and said, "I must see Professor Dumbledore. Return to your common room until further notice. And I want an eighteen inch essay on differentiating between the common wolf and a werewolf to be handed in next class."

The Ravenclaws started packing their things, groaning about the essay, and Hermione turned back to Severus, saying, "That will keep them occupied. Let's go."

They moved quickly through the halls, slowing only as Severus gave the password to the gargoyle, then continuing up the spiral staircase. Hermione was startled to see Dumbledore emerge from the doorway, a look of confusion evident on his face.

"Hermione? Severus?" 

"There has been a break-in --"

Dumbledore stumbled forward and both Severus and Hermione rushed forward as he collapsed, his head colliding with the stone floor with a sickening crack. 

"Albus!" she cried as she knelt and felt for a pulse beneath the snowy beard. "We have to get him to Poppy!"

While Hermione ministered over the unconscious wizard, Severus surveyed the office. A chair lay on its back, papers littered the floor, a few portraits of former Headmasters scorched though none of the owners were visible, and Fawkes was nowhere to be found.

"You take him. I believe whomever is responsible for Albus's condition is also responsible for the sabotage in the laboratory, and that he is still in the castle."

"But you can't go alone! If someone overpowered Albus, then you have no chance!"

Severus regarded her for a moment as she stood to face him, and she could see the resolve hardening in his black eyes.

"Albus was unprepared for the attack, but I am not. Take him to Poppy, then find the other teachers. We must stop him before he escapes."

"Alright, but be careful, please," she pleaded, unable to keep the tremble from her voice.

He nodded once and left without a backwards glance, down the revolving staircase, taking the steps two at a time.

Hermione whipped out her wand and muttered, "_Mobilicorpus_." 

She proceeded down the stairs and through the halls, Albus floating gently by her side, and her mind raced as she tried to figure out how this could have happened. For someone to take Dumbledore by surprise, it was unthinkable, which meant it had to be someone he knew and was expecting, otherwise they wouldn't have been able to enter the school to begin with. 

She heard voices around the corner from the stairs to the third floor, students, she quickly realized, then just as quickly cast a spell to hide Dumbledore from view; she certainly didn't want to cause a panic among the students. It was a pair of Hufflepuffs coming down the stairs, and Hermione instructed them to return to their common room until they received further instructions from their head of house.

When she reached the hospital wing, Poppy was tending to a student covered in green vines, so Hermione maneuvered the invisible body to a bed and conjured screens to surround them.

As she came around the screen and saw what seemed to be an empty bed, Poppy asked, "Did you bring someone in, Hermione?"

Hermione removed the charm and Dumbledore's form appeared, still unconscious.

"Oh Merlin!" Poppy gasped. "What happened?"

"He collapsed outside his office," Hermione said, moving out of the way so the medi-witch could take his readings. "We were just on our way to see him when it happened. His office was trashed, and so were the dungeons. I've got to find the other teachers."

"Go on, I'll take care of him."

"He has a cut here, on his head," Hermione said, pointing to his left temple and the dried trickle of blood there, "where he hit the floor and bruises on his neck. I did what I could, but you should probably --"

"Hermione Granger, I can take care of things in my hospital wing!" The edge of anger that tinged her voice was suddenly replaced with a ferocity that surprised Hermione. "You go find who did this to him!"

Hermione raced from the infirmary down the hall to the Charms classroom, where Flitwick was deeply involved with going over Cheering Charms with fifth year Gryffindors in preparation for their O.W.L.S. All the Gryffindors watched curiously as she crossed the room and bent over to speak with the tiny professor.

"There's been an incident. I need you to help me round up all the teachers and meet up by the front doors."

"What of the students?" he squeaked.

"I sent my class back to their common room, so I would suggest doing the same with all of the classes until we know what's going on."

Flitwick agreed and announced, "Students, return to your common room and remain there until Professor McGonagall informs you what to do next."

There were murmurs among the students who were obviously confused about the turn of events, but they dutifully packed up and left.

"I'll take the upper floors, you get everyone down here, and I'll meet you downstairs in ten minutes," Hermione said and they separated. 

Nine minutes later, as the sound of chattering students heading off to their common rooms receded, she made her way downstairs, followed closely by Professor Sinistra, who had been the last teacher Hermione found since her office was up in the North tower, and the only one she had briefed on her race through the castle.

As they descended the stairs to the ground floor, Hermione was relieved to see Severus already there, as were all of the other teachers, including Filch and Madam Pince, except for Trelawny. The Divination classroom had been empty and Hermione decided not to waste time trying to find her, since she surely would know of the trouble before hand. Someone had even managed to round up the House ghosts, as well as Binns, all of which floated nearby. 

"But who could have done this?" McGonagall asked as Hermione and Sinistra joined them, and the nodding faces of the teachers echoed her confusion. "And why?"

"I do not know the answer to either," Severus answered curtly. "But we must search the castle to apprehend the culprit. The longer we take, the greater the chance of escape." 

"He's right," Hermione spoke up over the murmurs, and the voices immediately stopped to listen to the expert at catching wizards adept at avoiding capture. "We need to move now. I suggest we search the castle in small groups."

The teachers nodded, and she continued, "Alright, pair up. Except for you, Hagrid. You take Fang and walk the grounds. And see if you can find Firenze. Filch, I want you to alert the paintings and have them search as well. We'll use them to communicate if anyone finds something." 

Hagrid and Filch both acknowledged with nods and disappeared as the teachers decided the pairs: Anne and Vasily, Flitwick and Sprout, McGonagall and Hooch, Sinistra and Pince, which left Hermione and Severus together.

"Don't separate unless you have to. If you find something, alert the nearest painting. Anne, Vasily, you two take the seventh floor and the towers. Minverva, Madam Hooch, fifth and sixth floors; Professors Flitwick and Sprout, third and fourth, please; and Professor Sinistra and Madam Pince, first and second. Severus and I will take the ground floor and the dungeons. Once you are certain your floors are secure, assist the others." She paused and looked at each one before continuing, "Please be careful. Whomever is responsible will not hesitate to harm any one of you."

The teachers journeyed upstairs, leaving only Hermione and Severus and the ghosts floating nearby. 

"What would you have us do, Hermione?" asked Nearly Headless Nick, who hovered nearby wringing his hands. 

"I want one of you to guard the front door, and another the one-eyed witch in the third floor corridor. The rest, search through the classrooms."

As they floated off and Severus watched her, she warily asked, "What?"

"You handled that well," he answered, surprising her with a compliment. "Shall we?"

Hermione followed him to the Great Hall, which was empty and disconcertingly quiet, and she warded it after they determined no one was hiding there.

"Who do you think it was?" Hermione asked quietly as they moved down the ground floor corridor, securing the few classrooms as they went.

"I do not wish to speculate at the moment. When Albus awakens, he will be able to shed light on the situation."

Silence hovered over them as they finished the search of the ground floor and moved towards the dungeons, and Severus broke it only to say, "You check the kitchens and Hufflepuff common room, and I will check the Slytherins and begin searching the classrooms."

"I told the others not to split up!"

"There is little chance the culprit would return to the dungeons, as there is no escape from them."

"Fine," she conceded after a moment's thought, then turned to check on the Hufflepuffs. 

Hermione gave the emergency teacher password, which opened the door to the all of the common rooms, and she tucked away her wand before entering. This was her first time in another House's common room, which was not much different from the Gryffindor, aside from the colors, and she wondered why she had expected something different. The Hufflepuffs in the room all stopped to stare at her, books falling open, chess pieces in mid-move, conversations hanging, and Hermione cleared her throat. 

"Excuse me, but none of you have seen anything out of the ordinary, have you?" Blank stares answered her query. "Any visitors, or anything strange?"

A few heads shook and she forced a bright smile.

"Well then, thank you, and Professor Sprout will be with you shortly."

She turned to leave when one Hufflepuff, a seventh year named Amanda, asked, "What's going on, Professor Granger? Did something happen?"

"We are handling it at the moment, but as long as you remain in your common room, everything will be fine. Professor Sprout will join you shortly and give you further instructions."

Hermione ducked out the door before she had to answer anymore questions, removing her wand as she turned towards the kitchens, then tickled the pear and opened the door cautiously.

"Miss Hermione!" a cry greeted her as she entered and Dobby scampered towards her, clutching her legs before she could fend him off. "Dobby is hoping you would come and visit!"

"Dobby, have you seen anyone down here? Someone not a teacher or student?"

The house elf frowned. "No, miss, Dobby only see other house elfs today. Is something wrong, Miss?"

"There's an intruder in the castle and we're trying to find him before he can escape, so if you do see anyone, anyone at all that's not a teacher, stop them and send for a teacher."

"Yes, Miss," he answered, nodding his head gravely.

"Even if it's Harry Potter."

"But Master Harry would never--"

"Dobby, anyone."

"Yes, Miss," he repeated, his eyes wide and fearful at the prospect of having to detain Harry Potter. "If I sees anyone, even Master Harry, I call you, Miss."

"Thank you, Dobby."

Hermione started towards the door, refusing offers of food from the distressed house elf, when Severus burst through.

"Let's go, someone was spotted on the third floor and a teacher was attacked."

She ran out behind him and through the corridors back to the huge marble staircase leading up into the castle, taking the steps two at a time, and as they rounded the stairs up to the second floor, Sprout raced down towards them, her eyes wild with fear.

"Someone's up there! He shot Filius and nearly got me! I don't know if he's still alive!" 

Hermione grasped the frantic professor by the shoulders and tried to calm her. "Are you alright? Were you hit by anything? Did you get a look at him? Where was he?"

She shook her head, the gray strands flying about dangerously, and she cried, "I can't go back up there! I'm terrible with curses! I just can't!"

Severus scowled and said, his voice gruff, "We're wasting time. Get her out of here before he escapes."

Nodding at Sprout, whose eyes showed some measure of relief from being spared from facing the intruder again, Hermione began to climb the stairs to the third floor with Severus close behind as Sprout made for the stairs to the first floor. Her wand felt slick with sweat, and as they paused before the third-floor landing, Hermione quickly wiped her hand and wand on her teaching robes while he waited for her direction.

She crouched down and peered around the corner, trying to reveal as little of herself as possible, but the hall was derelict and a heavy silence covered everything. She stood back up and turned the corner, motioning for Severus to follow as she spied an open classroom door halfway down, so she eased quietly towards the door, wishing she had had the presence of mind to retrieve the Marauder's Map while alerting the teachers earlier.

They stopped before the entrance, both pressed against the wall separating the hallway from the classroom, and Hermione felt in her pockets for something, anything of substance, finally finding a quill. She muttered quietly and the quill reshaped itself into a small, hooked mirror, reminiscent of something her parents might have used in their dental practice. She extended the mirror into the room. It did not afford her a very thorough look of the room, but it did seem that the room was free from intruders. 

She stuck her head into the room and gasped when she saw Flitwick's body on the floor.

"What?" Severus hissed from behind her.

"I've found Flitwick."

She felt him move around her to peer over her shoulder, and they both saw the second body at the same time.

"Sprout!" 

There was no mistaking it for anyone else, and before Hermione could say anything, Severus bolted back down the corridor and barreled down the steps.

Hermione turned to the nearest magical painting, some innocuous wizard, and shouted, "Get Minerva McGonagall up here! Tell her there are injured teachers!"

Hermione followed behind Severus though the gap closed with every set of stairs they descended until it disappeared as they reached the ground floor and exploded through the heavy doors into the bright afternoon sunlight.

"'Ermione!" Hagrid called out to them from the path to the lake and she trotted towards the towering man and the huge dog lumbering towards her. "Professor Sprout wanted me ter tell ya that she had ter go an' you'd explain ev'rythin' ter me. She sure was in a hurry. Even had herself a broom." 

"Shit!" she proclaimed as she stopped in front of the half-giant, her lungs hurting from the exertion and angry at herself for not expecting such a diversionary tactic. Severus arrived mere seconds later, his breathing heavy, and he glared at Hagrid. 

"Would you not find it out-of-place, Hagrid, for a teacher to be leaving at such a time?"

"Well --"

"That was the intruder, you imbecile!" he yelled, his eyes bulging. "The real Sprout would not dare leave the castle grounds, certainly not while Hogwarts is under such an emergency!"

"Calm down, we were fooled too," she said, placing a hand on his arm in restraint. It worked and he turned away, glaring instead at the castle.

"We should alert the others. And figure out what we're going to say to the students."

Severus immediately began walking towards the castle and without pausing for reply he threw over his shoulder, "I'm going to check on Dumbledore."

Hermione, after comforting and consoling a dejected Hagrid, returned to the castle, the half-giant in tow. Inside the doors, the teachers had reassembled, including Sprout and Flitwick, both of whom seemed a tad disoriented, but otherwise fine since they had merely been stunned.

"I didn't see anything," Sprout was saying, "I just saw Filius going down and by the time I had turned, he hit me too."

"What happened, Hermione?" McGonagall demanded. "Severus said something about an imposter?"

"Yes, someone had Professor Sprout's appearance and slipped past us and Hagrid. Polyjuice I would imagine."

"Do you think he'll come back?"

"Since we're not sure what the intruder was after, it's hard to say. It wouldn't hurt to stay prepared."

"Very well," McGonagall answered, firmly taking control of the situation. "I want an extra teacher on each patrol tonight." 

Sprout asked, "What of the students? How do we explain it to them?" 

"We should tell them the truth. It's what Albus would have us do."

"But how much of the truth, Minerva?" responded Flitwick. "It would only frighten them."

Hermione quickly said, "He's right. I think we should tell them there was an intruder and he's gone now, but nothing else, especially the teachers and Headmaster."

"We shall tell them that he has taken ill and I will be in charge until he is well," said Minerva, looking at each teacher in turn. "Not only would it be bad for the students, but the wizarding populace as well to know that someone was able to hurt Albus Dumbledore, and so I must insist that this information stay inside the castle without exception." Everyone nodded and she continued, "Poloma and Filius, please return to your Houses and explain to them what has happened. That is all."

After McGonagall's dismissal, Hermione went to the hospital wing, to see Dumbledore, as well as Severus. But mostly it was for Severus and the comfort he could provide, just from his presence. She found him, them, at the same curtain she had left Dumbledore earlier, and a quick glance informed her his condition had not changed much since. 

Severus sat rail stiff in the chair beside the bed, arms crossed and head down as he glowered at the floor, acknowledging her only with a slight turn of the head.

"How is he? What did Poppy say?"

She had to strain to hear the growl of his voice as he answered, "Poppy does not know what is wrong, and his condition has not changed since you brought him here."

"Why would this -- this person would hurt Dumbledore so, but only stun Flitwick and Sprout?"

"What is more important," he countered, "is who could have done this to Albus Dumbledore, to take him by surprise. Someone he knew and trusted."

Hermione didn't answer, just stood and stared at the black eyes that bore into her, and the same name that had been bothering her for weeks now slipped out.

"Harry."

___  
A/N:

Alright, I have no excuse. I know I said two weeks and here it is two months later. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed, and even those who haven't reviewed, thanks still for reading. And a great big thank you to those who've put up with my slow updates since I started writing this behemoth! I'll make no promises for Ch 30 and I'll just work on getting it out before February! 

Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and have a safe and happy New Year! 


	30. Chapter Thirty

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Thirty

It was late when Harry finally returned to the flat in Berlin, and Draco had spent the last twenty-four hours in a state of near-frenzy as he worried about Harry, what Harry was doing, where Harry was going. He was completely in the dark and he didn't like it in the least. He glared at a spot just to the left of the door frame as he heard the murmur of spells in the hallway and the door swung open, Harry propped up on the other side. 

"Where have you been? Do you know how worried I was, thinking you might not be coming back?" Draco asked nonchalantly, his voice belying his true anger, though his refusal to meet Harry at the door did nothing to hide it.

"Draco, don't do this, please," Harry answered, his eyes tired and pleading as he laid down his broom and hauled a bag from over his shoulder. "I haven't slept in almost two days and I just don't have the energy for it."

His clothes hung loosely from his body, as if they had grown too large while he was gone, he had a split bottom lip, and Draco could see the exhaustion oozing out of him, so Draco gave in and let Harry keep his secrets again, crossed the room and into waiting arms.

After a few moments, Harry pulled his head back and told him, "We'll talk tomorrow, I promise." Draco forced a corner of his mouth up and nodded, then returned his face to Harry's shoulder. "I'm doing this for both of us."

~ ~ ~

Sometime between eleven and twelve that night, Minerva McGonagall had arrived in the hospital wing and, with assistance from Poppy Pomfrey, forced Severus and Hermione out for the remainder of the night. Severus had stayed by Dumbledore's side watching for sign that he would wake despite Poppy's assurances that she would inform him of any change in his condition, and Hermione stayed for Severus though he was distant and they rarely spoke. In the corridor outside, Severus turned towards the dungeons and Hermione stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"My quarters are just around the corner. We'd be closer if anything changes with Albus."

"I have business in the dungeons," he said, not quite meeting her gaze, his arm pulling away from her. 

Frowning, she asked, "Not even just for a little while?"

"No, I do not think so. I have much to do and time is of the essence." His eyes were cold as he looked at her. "Classes are resuming as usual in the morning so I would expect to see you at lunch."

With that, he spun on his heel and retreated to his dungeons, alone.

"I don't even get a kiss?" she sighed and watched his retreating figure, wondering how much of his aloofness was Dumbledore and the attacks, and how much was her, though she couldn't figure out what she had done. She turned and walked the other direction to her quarters, not looking forward to the second night of sleeping there alone. She had thought last night, when he had declined her offer because he had tests to grade, was just a fluke, but tonight made her wonder.

His head dropped as his ears picked up the sound of her voice, but he forced himself to keep going, to not stop, to keep himself from rushing to her and folding her into his arms. His mind propelled him forward, on to the dungeons and away from Hermione. 

It was time, he had begun to realize, to pull away from her, to separate himself from her, since the school year would end in just over two months and she would be gone. It was better to prevent any further developing attachments with the girl and things would be easier in June. It was better, he knew it. He would miss her in the dungeons, he knew already. It was silly how much he had come to depend on her assistance with the mortalis fallax potion. But she had been useful. Yes, he would miss her. In his dungeons.

~ ~ ~

She was dreaming again, but this time she was alone; she could not feel Severus behind her, his ever watching yet unseen presence, as she followed Harry through the fog.

"Harry," she called though she knew he would not answer. "Harry, wait."

"He's dying, and only one can save him."

"Draco? Who can save him?"

She stopped, not wanting to follow him further. She was tired of this dream, sick of watching it play over and over in her head and not understanding what Harry kept telling her. 

"Harry!" she yelled once at his receding shape. 

The clouds surrounded her and she could no longer see Harry. The emptiness of the place began pressing in upon her and she panicked, calling out for him and whirling around, having lost her direction with nothing to guide her. Seconds ticked into minutes and minutes grew until she could no longer remember how long she had been standing in the fog alone.

~ ~ ~

Early the next morning, Draco awoke sore and tired, as if he had been running marathons while he slept. It was only just a bit after five, but it was unlikely he would be able to sleep again, the potion was wearing off already and he was sorely tempted to take another before he lost use of all his muscles and was confined to the bed until it was safe to take the next dosage. He wouldn't, he knew, because Harry would be upset, for taking the potion would only mean he was pulling nearer the ever encroaching day of his own death. 

Draco looked over at the sleeping form beside him and decided to let Harry sleep. He didn't know what Harry had been up to the previous night, but the last time Draco had seen him that tired had been a few months back when Voldemort summoned him to a Dark Revel and he had been gone for more than a day and a half.

He went to the kitchen and fixed a cup of tea, then returned to the worn sofa as he sipped it. The hot liquid spilled down his throat, forcing him to wake up incrementally. He sat and contemplated Harry's behavior and the warmth of the cup in his hand, feeling he understood the cup better than his own lover. 

Halfway through the tea, a wave of exhaustion crashed and Draco carefully set down the cup then stretched out on the couch, not trusting his limbs to carry him back to the bedroom, neither wanting to wake up Harry to assist him. He closed his eyes and fell into a light and fitful slumber. 

~ ~ ~

After doing as much as possible in the laboratory, Severus finally conceded to himself that perhaps he should check up on Hermione, since they had not made any progress with her memory block and the dream itself seemed the best way to access it, but especially now after the attack upon Dumbledore. And so, he found himself watching for hours from a chair by the bed as Hermione slept, unaware of his presence in the room. 

It was nearly seven in the morning when she began to writhe in the bed, her legs churning the soft sheets, and he knew the dream had started. He took a steadying breath, stripped off his robes, lowered himself to the bed, pulled her into his arms, his mind reaching out to hers as he whispered the magic word, "_Legilimens_." 

The fog surrounded him and he found himself suspended just behind Hermione, and he lifted his arms to embrace her floating form, though she couldn't actually feel him. 

"I have something to tell you, Hermione," Harry called, his voice floating through the fog up ahead. "I have to tell you soon."

As if his presence emboldened her, she began to move towards the suspended voice with Severus following behind, and quickly they were in a clearing. It was all different from before, there was no bed, no Draco, and Harry stood before them, not the grown-up Harry, but Harry the fifteen-year-old, the angry teenager he remembered most, wearing red Gryffindor jumper, faded jeans, worn out sneakers.

"Hermione, I have to tell you something."

"Tell me, Harry."

Severus caught a shimmer of light behind Harry's shoulder and he moved towards it, swimming through the fog and past Harry, who paid him no mind, and suddenly he stopped in front of the source. A keyhole shined through, the light slicing through the fog like a hot iron, and Severus instinctively bent down and placed his eye against it, blinking as he adjusted to the brightness.

He could make out nothing at first, just blurred images until they grew larger and in focus and Severus fell forward through the keyhole and into images that whirred past him, which after a moment's orientation, he recognized Harry in every one; somehow Severus found a way into Harry's mind!

Harry talking with Lucius Malfoy at the Ministry … running through the Forbidden Forest with Ron … nude and wrapped around Draco Malfoy … visiting a petrified Hermione in the hospital wing … kneeling before Voldemort … 

Everything went black and Severus jolted up in bed, gasping for air, his heart racing, and Hermione leapt out of bed as she woke up and saw him.

"Fuck, Severus, you nearly scared me to death! How long have you been here?"

He rubbed his face with his hands as she settled back on the bed beside him, tentatively placing her hand on his starched white shirt. He spoke after a long moment.

"I was in his mind. It was Harry, and he's been seeing Voldemort. That is all I could see before the connection terminated, but the implications are disturbing." He leaned back on the headboard, closing his eyes.

"What do we do now? Dumbledore's the only one who knows where he is!"

"Then we go to Dumbledore," he replied, and when he looked at her, she couldn't read his eyes. An arm slid about her shoulders and he pulled her to his chest. "Go back to sleep. We'll deal with him after you rest."

Suddenly tired again at his suggestion, Hermione tucked her face into his chest, breathing in the scents of the dungeons, longing to ask why he was being so distant but she every time she opened her mouth, the words wouldn't come, until finally she slept, her dreams calm and peaceful, but when she awoke an hour later, just in time for classes, Severus was gone.

~ ~ ~

Far away, in his flat in Berlin, Harry Potter also jolted awake, suddenly aware of Snape's presence in his head and quickly forcing him back out. He worried for a moment that Snape might have seen something, but quickly dismissed concern because his plan would come to fruition tomorrow and it would not matter if Snape knew everything. 

After a moment, he also realized that the bed was empty, Draco absent, but a glance to the bedside clock told him it was nearly nine and Draco had just let him sleep. He threw back the covers and climbed out of bed, taking only a few minutes to throw on a seemingly clean pair of trousers from the floor and a white t-shirt, also grabbing a green jumper for later.

Walking into the living room, he spotted Draco asleep on the couch and he smiled, resisting the urge to wake him and kiss him, instead going to the kitchen to make a quick sandwich. 

"Harry? Is that you?"

A mess of black hair followed by glasses and Harry's smile peeked around the corner and around the last bite of his ham and cheese he said, "I didn't mean to wake you."

"I was just resting," Draco answered. He felt stronger than before, so he hoisted himself up from the couch and joined Harry in the kitchen, who had out the vial for the polyjuice and grinned guiltily when Draco turned the corner. 

"Going somewhere?"

"Yeah, I've got some business to take care of at the Ministry, but I'll be back in the afternoon."

"Will you tell me what's going on, first?"

Harry's green eyes clouded over and, setting down the potion, leaned heavily on the counter. He was tired of keeping secrets from Draco. The fluorescent bulb above flickered, the stark light enhancing the tired lines on Draco's already pale face. 

"Alright, we'll talk," he said with a long exhale. "Are you hungry, thirsty?"

Draco shook his head wordlessly, a small frown indicating that he was growing weary of Harry's attempts to divert his attention. Finally Harry began.

"I started thinking about this a few months ago, just after Christmas, actually, and it took a while to work out all the details, but finally I did." 

Draco waited patiently as Harry fidgeted with his shirt and rearranged the words in his head, then he brought his head up and his green eyes found Draco's grey.

"I decided to approach Voldemort for help, because who would know better a dark curse than the Dark Lord himself?" His eyes dropped and he continued, "But the trick was, how do I get him to tell me the countercurse? I only had one thing to offer him."

A heavy silence descended as Draco stared at Harry, first with confusion and then with astonishment as understanding fell on him.

"You gave yourself up to him?" His voice was just above a whisper, as if speaking the words softly would keep them from being true. Harry nodded, his eyes still averted and Draco asked, "But, why? Everything you -- we've worked for…."

"I -- I don't care." He brought his eyes up, unspilled tears making his eyes sparkle like emeralds. "What would it matter to me if the war is won or lost if you're -- you're not here?"

Draco's heart wrenched in his chest, as if someone had reached in and squeezed with all their might, and he felt his own eyes tear up. He desperately needed to reach out to Harry, to offer comfort, but he needed to find out the rest of it, the proverbial other shoe as there was undoubtedly with deals with the Dark Lord.

"What did you offer Voldemort?" he asked quietly, and at first he wasn't sure that Harry had heard him. As he was about to repeat the question, Harry answered and his voice matched Draco's quietude.

"Everything he wanted. Dumbledore, Hogwarts, Snape's potion. All of it." Again he couldn't meet Draco's gaze and it was just as well, for he wouldn't have been able to withstand the sadness there. "Yesterday, I went to Hogwarts, stole the potion, then poisoned Dumbledore and searched for the defences on the castle. I found a few things, but I know there's more, so I need to go to the Ministry and see what they have there."

"Harry," Draco murmured, knowing nothing else to say.

"I go back to Voldemort tomorrow, and once everything's finished and over, he will cure you."

Draco stood in the kitchen, speechless as he looked at Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the only one who could defeat the most powerful wizard in history, the one who was sacrificing the good of wizardkind for love, for him.

"Harry…."

"I need to go."

Harry slipped the polyjuice into his pocket, not even sure if he would need it, and walked out of the kitchen, stopping only to find a set of plain black robes and grab his broom.

"Harry."

Turning round to face Draco, his heart nearly burst as Draco's eyes broadcast all his love and fears. 

"I'll see you soon."

He opened the door to the flat, then locked and warded it behind him. He climbed the stairs to the top of the building and mounted his broom, turning automatically towards London and the Ministry. He didn't let himself linger on his actions at the castle, of poisoning Dumbledore, not lethally, mind, but nonetheless he was betraying everything he had defended since he was a boy. As long as he didn't let himself think about it, he would be alright, but with a long broom ride ahead, it was hard to think of much else so he cleared his mind and watched the scenery shoot past.

The broom ride went smoothy, and within a few hours he entered the Ministry and immediately headed for the office of Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, who would readily secure Harry with all the information he needed, or at least that was what Harry hoped, because he would not be able to escape should anything go wrong. He trusted that Hermione would keep the situation at Hogwarts under wraps as well, so as not to alert the Ministry and cause a panic. 

Arriving at the anteroom to Fudge's office, Harry flashed his most brilliant smile and ran a hand through his hair with affected nervousness at his young secretary, a cute early-thirties witch who sighed dreamily as she went off to announce his presence to the Minister. 

"The Minister will see you now," she cooed, her blue eyes fluttering at Harry as he passed, offering a parting smile as he clicked the door shut.

The office was just as pompous and crass as the last time Harry had been here, with the dark blues and golds and heavy, antique furniture. Cornelius Fudge rose from the opposite side of an enormous desk, extending his hand as he exclaimed, "Why, Harry! What a surprise! I hope you didn't wait long!"

Harry pumped the man's hand, replying and grinning, "Not long enough! I quite enjoy that little secretary of yours."

With a robust laugh, Fudge sat down in a large gold wingback and motioned for Harry to follow suit. "Yes, that Lydia is quite the treat, isn't she?" He folded his hands in front of him and leaned forward. "Now, what can I do for you, Harry? I trust this is not a social call."

"Indeed, it is not, Minister. I'm here on very serious business." He paused dramatically as the older and less competent wizard before him shuffled through papers on his desk, glancing up at 'serious business,' and Harry continued, "I need all the information on Hogwarts that the Ministry currently has."

"But Harry," the Minister began, obviously flustered by Harry's arguments, "this is highly irregular. I'm not sure that Dumbledore --"

"Albus sent me to pick up this information should Voldemort attempt an attack on the Ministry. He would have come himself, but he has taken ill."

"Nothing too serious, I trust," Fudge said warily. "Perhaps I should owl him myself."

Harry shrugged. "If you insist, but all you'll find out is that he's sick. I suppose I could go into London for a bit while we wait for word."

Fudge narrowed his eyes and replied, "No, that won't be necessary. If Albus wants to send you for the information, then I won't argue with that. Give me a few minutes to organize the necessary people."

"Of course, Minister."

Within fifteen minutes, the older man was back, instructing Harry to follow him to a library down the hall where several witches and wizards were sorting rolls of parchment into a few small bags, obviously charmed to hold much more than their sizes would indicate, and after a moment, they finished up and Fudge offered the two bags to Harry.

"This is what we have. Much of it is ancient, from well before the twentieth century, though we do have quite a bit from Dippet's time as Headmaster."

"Thank you very much, Minister. I'm sure this is everything the Headmaster would want."

"You tell Dumbledore to take better care of himself!" As they entered the hallway, Fudge turned back to Harry and said, "We can't afford for him to take too many days off, now can we?"

Harry forced a laugh and answered, "No, we certainly can't."

Fudge said goodbye, and Harry sighed as the bumbling wizard turned to return to his office and Harry headed for the front doors, hoping this was the last of the information he would need. 

___  
A/N:

Hey, it's up before Feb! I just need quality alone time with the computer and ch 31 will be up. Thanks so much for your patience in waiting for updates. A reminder that if you want to be alerted when there's a new chapter then:

1. Email me or leave your email saying you want to be added.  
2. Click on Add Author to Favorites (while leaving a review!!!)  
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Codie, glad to see you around again! 


	31. Chapter Thirty One

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Thirty One

Harry tried to open his eyes, his weighted eyelids refusing to cooperate at first, then lifted his head off the ground an inch before his neck gave out and pain ricocheted inside his head as it collided with the floor. A wave of nausea crashed and he rolled his head to the side in time expel a milky substance, nothing he remembered consuming. He grimaced as the liquid seeped through the thin fabric of his shirt, uncomfortably warm and sticky. 

He rolled his head back up, his breath short and ragged. The room was dark, the only light a shaft slipping through a break in the curtains, but it was his own living room, he recognized the dark forms as his furniture. He couldn't remember why he was on the floor trying not to get sick all over himself, or even what day it was. He tried to move his fingers and toes but nothing responded. 

"Draco?" he whispered soundlessly, his voice lost in the dark.

Harry lay there on the floor, drifting in and out of consciousness, disturbing figures flitting through the boundless stretches of time when he could not tell whether his eyes were open or not, if he was awake or dreaming. 

At last the fog surrounding his mind started to clear and he was able to marshal his strength enough to roll onto his side and from there push himself to his knees. He wobbled and dropped back onto his hands, panting from the effort, and after a moment he was able to crawl towards the couch, stopping only for a moment to nurse his shoulder after banging into a table leg.

"_Lumos_," he muttered and a few candles in the room lit up, casting faint light through the room.

He hauled himself up onto the couch after a few failed attempts then stopped to catch his breath and take mental stock of his condition: his stomach roiled and heaved, his head pounded, his shoulder ached from the collision with the table, and his glasses were missing. Squinching up his eyes, he scanned the room for the glasses, but he was unable to see them anywhere. 

"Draco?" he called again, this time his voice strong enough to fill the room, unsurprised that there was no answer because of the unsettling quiet of the flat. Harry decided not to risk moving about without his glasses and called for them with an _accio_ charm.

Rustling in the bedroom told him his glasses were back there, so he called again and this time he was rewarded by the spectacles soaring into his outstretched hand. He shoved them onto his nose, oblivious to a crack in one of the lenses, and he looked for his wand; a quick pat of his pockets had revealed the wand not on his person, and he spied it on the floor in the kitchen.

"_Accio_ wand."

The clock on the wall showed one, and Harry rubbed his head and sat back on the couch to figure out what had happened. He could remember last night perfectly fine: the broom ride back from the Ministry with the needed papers on Hogwarts, Draco confronting him about the whole scheme upon his return, their ensuing argument and subsequent make up session, after which he easily fell asleep. 

But he could not remember anything past that, including why he woke up on the floor in the living room completely clothed. Or, as his eyes happened upon the spot by the door where he had left the bag filled with Snape's potion and the papers about Hogwarts, why the bag was no longer there. As soon as the fact that the bag was missing had sunk in, he saw a piece of paper on the floor in front of the door. Harry leapt to his feet, waiting through the sudden dizziness which allowed his legs time to readjust to use, and he crossed the room as quickly as he dared. He snatched the paper from the ground and his eyes darted over the lines, barely able to take in the words as he passed over them. As the paper slipped from his hand, the other hand flew out to the wall as he nearly collapsed and cried out,

"Draco, no!"

_The potion should wear off early afternoon, so you should go as soon as you read this. He will come here, and he will stop at nothing to find you. I know you love me, but I hope one day you understand how much I love you._

Classes dragged by all morning until it was finally lunch and Hermione had to force herself not to run to the hospital wing. Expecting only to walk into a quiet wing and speak with Poppy, Hermione was surprised to find herself in the middle of a full-blown argument from the mediwitch herself and Severus Snape near the bed where Dumbledore lay, oblivious to the commotion surrounding him. 

"Wake him up!" Severus roared at Poppy, who, to her credit, did not flinch nor step back from the imposing figure before her.

"Severus, I will not! In his condition, it could be damaging to force him into consciousness!" the small witch argued, a finger out and pointing into Severus's chest. 

Neither of them noticed her arrival, so she stepped up and joined the fray saying, "Poppy, we have to talk to him, otherwise we wouldn't be asking."

Both faces swiveled to face her, surprise at first on both, then Severus frowned and said, "We aren't asking." He turned away and looked at Dumbledore's unconscious form.

"Yes, we are," Hermione contradicted him, ignoring the scowl he shot into the side of her skull. "Because Poppy will know how best to wake Dumbledore. But we have to talk to him Poppy, it's not optional, and we need your help."

Poppy glared at Severus, and he glared right back until finally she sighed and agreed. "I don't like it, let me say that, but I trust that the two of you understand how ill he is." She looked severely from Severus to Hermione before sighing and saying, "Let me get the draught."

Hermione watched the older witch as she walked back to the office before turning back to Severus. "You were gone pretty quick this morning."

He gave her a calculating look before answering, his voice devoid of emotion, "I had things to do."

"Of course you did," she answered coolly and crossed her arms over her chest.

An uncomfortable silence descended upon them as they looked at one another and it was broken only upon Poppy's return with a bottle of Worme's Wake-Up Draught but she was too distracted to notice the tension between the two teachers. 

"Here we are. I need one of you to hold up his head."

Severus was closest and moved to Dumbledore, gently raising his head as Poppy opened his mouth and poured in the recommended dosage from her spoon. Severus laid him back down on the pillow and everyone watched expectantly for the potion to take hold, but nothing happened for the first minute.

"How long does this potion take to work?" Severus asked, his impatience growing visibly as he crossed and uncrossed his arms repeatedly.

"It should be working by now," Poppy said, her wand whisking irritably over Dumbledore and she frowned at the readings. "Something is wrong if the potion isn't waking him up."

"Did we ever figure out what's wrong with him anyway?" asked Hermione as she chewed her bottom lip, sifting through the evidence in her own mind.

Poppy answered, "I had believed it to be a curse, but now -- I've never seen this potion fail on reviving someone from a curse. But perhaps it was a potion after all."

"Severus, does this look like any potion you know? Dark or otherwise?"

"Not from what I have seen and Madam Pomfrey has told me, but I can hardly be expected to remember the effects of every potion ever concocted," he snapped, glaring at Hermione before spinning on his heel, his robes flapping up behind him as he stalked to the door. "Inform me at once if there is any change," he called over his shoulder without looking back.

Hermione stared after him, until the doors slammed shut and she turned back to Poppy, shrugging at the mediwitch's curious stare. She didn't feel like making excuses for his rude behavior at present, so she left to grab a spot of lunch before classes resumed. 

The afternoon dragged by and with every footfall outside her classroom door, her heart leapt with hope that it was word about Dumbledore, but no such news ever came. When her final class was through, she hurried back to the hospital wing to check in with Pomfrey, but the mediwitch had nothing good to offer. 

"He's worse," she whispered to Hermione as they stood before Dumbledore's bed. "His heart rate has slowed and his temperature his dropped. I think the draught is interacting with whatever is causing this."

"Have you given him anything else?"

"No, of course not. I summoned Severus as soon as I noticed the changes and he is working on something now."

After leaving instructions for the mediwitch to summon her if Dumbledore's condition deteriorated further, Hermione headed off to the dungeons to check on Severus, since Poppy didn't know what he was working on exactly.

She entered the laboratory without knocking, as she had for months now, and she was startled to find herself on the receiving end of a trademark Snape glare.

"I have enough to worry about at present," he snarled from where he stood stirring a potion, "that I do not need to add you to the list."

She froze halfway across the room, her eyes locked on his.

"Excuse me?" she responded, not quite sure where this conversation had come from or was going. "Poppy told me you were working on something for Albus and I wanted to see if you needed anything."

He continued to hold her stare until he returned his concentration to the potion, saying, "I require nothing, so if that is all, I must insist that you leave at once."

The ease with which he dismissed her did not suit her at all and her temper flared.

"Actually, I did want to talk to you about how you snapped at me in front of Poppy at lunch. It was thoroughly unnecessary, and I don't care for you speaking to me in the manner which you have been."

For a long moment, Severus continued to give his full attention to the cauldron before him until he slowly raised his smoldering eyes to her. 

"Is that all?"

"No, it's not! I want you to answer me! I want to know what is happening between us!"

"I believe we have more important things to be concerned with at present," he said quietly, his voice infused with the dangerous tones she had not heard directed at her in some months. "I repeat, if there is nothing further…."

Hermione felt as if he had crossed the room and slapped her, and she left the room without answering. Severus watched her leave with only a small twinge of guilt. He knew he was being exceptionally hard on her through no fault of her own, but he did not have the energy or desire to go into what promised to be a lengthy discussion over their standing. 

He dropped the pretext of working on the potion and threw himself into his armchair, painfully conscious of Hermione's empty one as he brooded. Everything was wearing him thin: Dumbledore, the lost potion that he was working hard to replenish, Hermione, Harry bloody Potter. He picked up the book he had been using for research on Dumbledore's condition and forced his attention back to the pages. 

Feeling trapped inside the castle, Hermione eventually found herself outside in the cloud-diluted sunlight, and she meandered around the grounds, eventually settling near the quidditch pitch, and she absently watched the Gryffindors practice. Her thoughts alternated between Dumbledore's condition and who put him there, and her own situation with Severus, which only angered her, since the other matter was much more important, as Severus himself had so kindly pointed out. She scowled at the quidditch pitch through the golden, late afternoon light and started back to the castle. 

Hermione froze as a familiar figure trudged up the walk. Harry saw her at the same moment and immediately veered off to intercept her. She reached in her robes for her wand and slowly pulled it out, holding it at her side, the tip aiming at the ground in what she hoped was a non-threatening manner while sending him the message that she was prepared. 

He slowed, his hands deliberately at his sides, away from his body. He stopped a few yards in front of her.

"I have the antidote," he began, "for Albus." 

"How did you get it?" she asked.

"Draco," he said simply. When her eyebrows creased in a frown, he elaborated further. "Albus was given a potion --"

"By you?"

"Yes, by me," he admitted resignedly. "It was one Draco had made for Voldemort, and he developed the antidote at the same time, of course."

She didn't know what to think. She stared hard at the person she had believed to be one of her closest friends. It was Harry who had attacked Albus, Pomona Sprout and Filius Flitwick. Finally knowing the truth, or at least some piece of it, did not make it easier for her to accept; she realized all this time she had still harbored some hope that Harry was not involved in any way, even though increasingly the evidence pointed to him.

"How can I trust you, Harry?" 

"I'll tell you everything, all of it. Give me Veritaserum, I'll take it."

Again she watched him. Her instincts said that he must be telling the truth, or else he never would have returned, but after everything that had happened….

"Where is the antidote? Give it to me." She quickly added, "And your wand."

He carefully withdrew the wand from the inside left pocket of his robes, holding it by the tip as he gave it to her, then reached into the other side for a flagon that he also passed to Hermione. 

"Let's go, then." 

She stuffed her hand in her robes, though she kept firm grip on the wand and directed it towards Harry. He nodded and walked to the castle, a terrible silence between them. 

As they approached the doors, Harry turned to her and asked, "Are we going to the hospital wing?"

"No, the dungeons."

He gave her a feeble smile, a half-hearted attempt that did not touch his eyes and only brought up one corner of his mouth. "I guess you're going to take me up on the Veritaserum, huh? I don't blame you."

She snapped, her patience wearing thin, "As a matter of fact, yes, but I would think Dumbledore's well-being is a more pressing issue right now."

Harry hung his head and nodded in agreement. He preceded her to the dungeons, moving towards the laboratory at her prompting. 

Severus stood with his back to the door, at a different potion, and he scowled as he heard the door bang open, immediately turning to berate whoever was interrupting him. He could not help but let his jaw drop when he turned to see Potter in the doorway, Hermione right behind him, but he recovered almost immediately and acted as if he had expected Potter to show up all along.

"Sit," she instructed Harry, pointing at the armchairs. He obeyed and rope shot from her wand to keep him in place, though each in the room knew that it was really a futile display if Harry wanted to escape. 

She crossed the room to Severus placed the bottle of antidote in his hand, which he examined suspiciously.

"What is this?"

"Something that is supposed to cure Albus."

An eyebrow leapt up and he directed his gaze to Harry, before returning his attention to Hermione and asking snidely, "How do you know this what he claims?"

"Why do you think I'm here?" she barked, irritated that he would second guess her. "Do you think I would just take some potion and give it to Albus because Harry claimed it would fix him?"

His black eyes bored into her and she glared straight back before turning to Harry.

"Tell him about the potion."

Harry gave a small sigh and, without meeting either's eyes, said, "Draco made it, for Voldemort. It puts the victim into a coma, an unwakable coma. Voldemort didn't want him making the antidote, but he did anyway. I think he had started to develop a conscience after all."

"Unlike you," she said, her voice low.

Severus dug out a flask of Veritaserum from his robes and walked to Potter. 

"There is only one way to know for sure."

Ten minutes later, Poppy and Hermione stood beside Dumbledore in the hospital wing, while Severus paced the opposite side, Harry perched at the foot of the bed. With bated breath, they watched for signs of the antidote to take hold.

"How long are we supposed to wait, Potter?" Severus growled.

Harry shrugged. "Draco only told me it was the antidote."

The mediwitch checked the readings and said, "His heart rate is increasing. And his temperature."

Suddenly the electric blue eyes fluttered open.

"Albus!" Poppy cried. 

A faint smile lifted the corners of his mouth as his eyes focused first on Poppy, then Hermione and Severus, finally settling on Harry, still seated at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed and a sad look on his face.

Dumbledore's mouth moved and they all leaned forward to hear him whisper, "Did Draco foil your plan? I thought he might."  
  
  
A/N:

Writing and I have had a problem or two over the last couple of months, but I think I beat it into submission and we'll be fine 'til the end of the fic. Of course, I say that, but who the hell knows? Thanks for the continued support through my sporadic postings -- Mara, thanks for the criticism, actually made me think more in detail on some things I hadn't before, and I think you'll find it satisfactory! 

As a side note, I have nearly completed a little one-shot, my very first non-HG/SS fic -- actually a pairing I would not have EVER considered except for Shiv's pairing of them as a sub-plot to Arithmantic Dating Agency, go read it if you haven't already! -- so be on the lookout for it in the next week or so, and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 


	32. Chapter Thirty Two

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Thirty Two

A heavy silence descended upon Dumbledore's office. McGonagall had conjured a straight-backed wooded chair, the only filled chair at present, and it sat directly before the Headmaster's desk. The owner, however, was conspicuously absent, stilly lying in the hospital wing under Madam Pomfrey's strict watch, who had refused all entreaties to release her patient for a few hours, even though his condition had improved, and so the debriefing occurred without Dumbledore. Most of the former Headmasters watched curiously at the proceedings, though a few continued to snore noisily in their portraits, and Fawkes sat on his perch, his eyes alert. 

Minerva paced the bit of floor beside the desk, her glare wandering to Harry regularly as if expecting him to suddenly shout it was all a prank and he had never intended to betray Hogwarts and the Order. Severus stood facing the fireplace, his back to everyone as he stared blankly at the empty grate. Hermione leaned against the desk, her arms crossed and her attention focused on a point on the far wall. Harry sat glumly in the conjured chair, eyes on the floor, the Veritaserum finally wearing off.

"Well," Minerva finally began, lowering herself into an armchair facing Harry, "it's a good thing Draco Malfoy has more sense than you. What on earth were you thinking, Potter?"

"He wasn't," snarled Severus, finally turning to face the others. "Quite the Gryffindor, our Mister Potter. I've been telling Albus for years that we couldn't trust our well-being to him."

"Maybe you're right, Snape," Harry said slowly, but his voice was devoid of sarcasm, of any emotion. "Maybe you've been right all along."

Severus allowed a small smirk before Hermione, who had been silent since the end of the questioning, finally spoke.

"But we have to trust in Harry." All eyes trained on Hermione, even Harry who raised his head reluctantly and she asked with a roll of the eyes, "Am I the only one in this room who remembers the prophecy?"

"But Hermione, you don't believe in Divination. You always said it was rubbish," said Harry.

She nodded, her eyes moving to the lightning bolt scar on his forehead, and he reflexively put up a hand as if to protect it, to shield it from her gaze. 

"We're not talking about reading tea leaves or palmistry. This is a _prophecy_," she said, laying careful emphasis on the word, "and I've been telling you since fifth year it's different. How much of it has already been fulfilled? Harry, born at the end of the seventh month, marked by Voldemort as an equal, who also transferred powers to him unwittingly. The only thing left is for one of you to die."

Severus scoffed, "He has already proven himself untrustworthy, so why should we continue to place our faith in him?"

"Because we have no other choice," Hermione said patiently, as if trying to explain some complex jinx to an uncomprehending student. "Don't you see? Harry is the only one who can defeat Voldemort, regardless of what he's done, because of the prophecy. There _is_ no one else."

The Potions Master opened his mouth to argue but a commotion at the window interrupted him and everyone looked up to see a white snow owl flapping impatiently at the window, a box tied with string dangling from her feet.

"Hedwig!" Harry exclaimed and made to stand up, but a pointed look from McGonagall kept him glued to his seat. 

Hermione went around the desk to open the window and let in the tired owl, who hooted gratefully and released the package into Hermione's hands, then flew to Harry who nuzzled her affectionately.

"I was worried about you! I didn't know where you were so I had to leave without you!"

Hedwig hooted softly and settled on his shoulder as Hermione inspected the package. 

"It's addressed to the Headmaster's office."

Severus immediately wheeled around and took the package from Hermione, who refrained from comment as she relinquished it, and he opened the plain brown wrapping carefully. He first pulled out a roll of parchment and read the contents silently and without comment before passing it to Hermione and she read it aloud:

_"To Dumbledore, Granger, Snape, or whomever:_

I hope by the time you have received this, Harry has returned and Albus is on his way to a speedy recovery. Enclosed you will find the mortalis fallax potion as well as all documents relevant to Hogwarts and its defences. I will soon be on my way to see the Dark Lord and it is doubtful I will return. Please, I beg you, do not hold this indiscretion against Harry -- he has been under extreme stress and his judgment has lapsed.

Yours in the fight,  
Draco Malfoy"

Her eyes were wide as she looked up from the parchment to Harry's ashen face, his gaze once again directed at the floor and she saw him hurriedly wipe away an errant tear.

Everyone looked up just then as Severus hissed, "My potion! And what is -- plans on Hogwarts?" He held several papers in his hand with diagrams of the school and he glowered at Harry. "Is this everything?"

"Everything the Ministry had."

"I meant that and everything you stole from Hogwarts."

Harry shrugged. "I didn't even go through all of it, but I would imagine Draco simply bundled everything up and sent it on its way."

"You were going to betray us all for a countercurse?"

"We've already been through this," Harry said softly, looking to Hermione for support but she offered him nothing, not even a glance. She was too busy staring at the letter still in her hands. 

"Yes," Severus sneered as he slipped into the chair behind Dumbledore's desk, "I believe you already told us the sweet tale of how you and young Mister Malfoy performed the _adiunctum animae_ charm and were forever bonded at the tender age of sixteen."

Harry glared but refused to rise to the bait and instead turned to McGonagall since Hermione was still staring at the letter. "We've got to do something, though. Voldemort's planning on moving in France soon, and I know he already has plans in motion for the Ministry as well as Hogwarts."

"But what? With Dumbledore incapacitated --"

Finally brought back to the present, Hermione looked to McGonagall. "We go to Fudge. Or rather, Harry does." She continued over Severus's immediate protestations, "Harry is the only one here that Fudge would take seriously, and he doesn't have to know anything about what happened. In fact, I don't think anyone other than the four of us -- five counting Dumbledore -- need to know the story behind it. It would be far too damaging."

Again, silence descended as everyone considered her words, and Minerva finally spoke.

"You're right. We cannot sit here and wait for Dumbledore's recovery to act." She turned to Harry, her beady eyes telling him she was all business. "Potter, go to Fudge. Perhaps he can send someone to Paris and Beauxbatons. Severus, you and Hermione must return to work on that potion immediately, we don't have time to waste." 

He opened his mouth to argue, but McGonagall cut him off quickly with a glare before turning her attention to the other witch. "But first, Hermione I want you to assemble to Order immediately. We must have a plan ready."

"And why don't you keep an eye on your little friend while you're at it?" Severus growled, his black eyes piercing Harry and Hermione alternately.

"Why don't you keep your mouth shut?" Hermione said, only a tremor of anger showing in her voice. "I think Harry is perfectly capable of taking care of himself."

Harry felt the undertones of the argument and knew this had little to do with himself, so he held himself back and only watched as Hermione and Severus glared at one another. McGonagall cleared her throat self-consciously and Harry finally spoke up.

"Hermione, we should leave quickly so I can catch Fudge before he leaves the office."

"Of course," she said, finally tearing her eyes away from Severus, "let's go."

Hermione and Harry set off on the path to Hogsmeade almost immediately after leaving McGonagall and Snape in Dumbledore's office, stopping only in the kitchens for Harry to grab a quick snack, which ended up being a terrible idea because Hermione had to brandish her wand at Dobby who had thrown himself at Harry's legs and would not let go at first. 

It was not quite dark yet and a rain had fallen in the few hours that had passed since the afternoon, so they had to walk carefully to avoid large puddles in the path. They walked the first few minutes in quiet, before Hermione finally dared to break the silence.

"Why didn't you tell me about Draco?" she asked softly.

At first, he did not answer, hands shoved into pockets and he stared at the path and his feet until he finally said, "I didn't tell anyone, not you or Ron. I didn't want to share him with anyone."

"So you did the _adiunctum animae_ charm in sixth year?" He nodded. "Harry, what the hell were you doing casting a dark arts spell to bind the two of you?"

"I -- I don't know!" exclaimed Harry, and she could hear the exasperation in his voice. "I was sixteen! And I thought I would die without him! Didn't you ever do anything stupid at sixteen?"

Hermione stopped in the path and stood looking at him, a curious look on her face, and Harry stopped as well. He glared at her sullenly and said, "No, I forgot, you're Hermione Granger and you never do anything without first analyzing it to death until there's nothing left. Especially when it comes to feelings and love."

"That's not fair!" 

"But isn't it?" he asked, a bit coldly. "Isn't that why you and Ron never made it?"

"What does that have to do with anything? Ron was a stupid prat when we were at school, and he still is now, when it comes to women!"

"I think you're just masking the fact that your analyzing every aspect of the relationship is what killed it."

"Fuck, Harry! We were sixteen, just kids! I loved Ron, still do, but it would never have worked --"

"Just like what you're doing with Snape now."

She glared at him and said, "You don't know anything about Snape and me, so you can stop right there."

"I saw the two of you in Dumbledore's office, and I can put two and two together."

"You don't even know what's happened between the two of us so I think you should shut the hell up!" Hermione growled.

He stared at her for a minute until a soft smile broke on his lips and he said, "Look at us. A pair of Gryffindors who fell for a couple of Slytherins. Who would've thought?"

Hermione laughed, felt the anger drain from her as quickly as it had appeared. "Poor Ron … he's going to have a heart attack when he finds out that it isn't just me."

They started walking again and after a moment Harry asked, "So what is the deal between you and Snape? If I didn't know better, I'd say he hates you more than me."

"I -- I don't know," she answered with a small sigh. "Things were fine, I mean, I thought they were, then they weren't. He won't talk to me, he avoids me as much as possible, and we haven't, well, we haven't --"

She faltered and with a grin Harry suggested, "Shagged? Fucked?"

Hermione scowled at him and said, "We haven't slept together since, well, since you attacked Dumbledore."

At mention of his misdeeds, Harry looked abashed and was unable to meet her gaze. After a moment, he asked, "So you don't know why he's acting like this?" She shook her head. "D'you want me to find out for you?"

She snorted. "What, you think Snape's just going to be buddy-buddy with you all of a sudden? He bloody hates you as it is."

"Not exactly. What I had in mind was a bit more … covert," he replied with a sly smile. "I'm willing to bet that I'm a better Legilimens than he's an Occlumens, so maybe I can find out what's going on in that greasy head of his."

She frowned at him but offered no argument: it would be nice to find out what the git was on about, since he certainly wasn't going to discuss the matter with her. They had reached the end of the path and Hermione turned to him.

"Look, why don't you come by Grimmauld Place once you're done with Fudge, and help me with the Order."

Harry quickly shook his head. "I can't -- I still hate being in that place."

She understood and she didn't press the issue. Even though it had been seven years since Sirius's death, it still pained Harry and he never had forgiven himself for not trusting in Dumbledore.

"I'll just come back here, since I'm sure Snape will shit himself if I'm gone too long."

"Probably. Be careful, then."

Harry threw out a hand and grabbed her arm. "Hermione…" he trailed off, and she was surprised to see tears sparkling in his emerald eyes, "I'm sorry, all I could think about was Draco and I betrayed you and Ron and Albus--"

"Oh Harry!" she cried, cutting him off as she stretched up to throw her arms around his neck. "I know, I know."

"And D-Draco's the one who's going to p-pay for it!" he sobbed into her mass of curls. 

Hermione shushed him gently, rubbed his back, held him tight. Minutes passed and he quieted at last and pulled away, wiping his bloodshot eyes.

"I love you Harry," she said softly, "no matter what."

"I love you too," he whispered and squeezed her hand.

With a reassuring smile, she said, "You take care of Fudge and we can talk more later."

They both apparated, Harry to the Ministry, Hermione to the spot of grass across from Number 12 Grimmauld Place. She thought the address as she approached, surprised as always when the houses on either side suddenly shoved out of the way to reveal the dark looming house. She knocked with the silver serpent and heard footsteps just before the door creaked open, revealing a weary Remus Lupin.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed, pulling her into a quick hug.

"Remus, how are you?"

"Recovering," he simply said.

She remembered that the full moon had been only a few days ago, on Wednesday, the day before Harry's visit to the castle which seemed a lifetime ago. She wondered who had brewed the wolfsbane potion for him, since she hadn't noticed Severus brewing it in the dungeons. They moved quietly through the entrance hall, past the covered portrait of Mrs. Black that still no one could remove and on to the kitchen.

"What brings you here?"

"We think Voldemort's going to be moving soon, first against France, then against the Ministry. We need to gather the Order as quickly as possible."

"Are you sure?" Remus asked, disbelief written on his face. "Is this really it?"

She nodded. "Harry's gone to Fudge to warn him and to see about sending someone to France."

"If France falls to Voldemort…" he began. "It would only be a matter of time before the rest of Europe follows suit."

"Exactly."

Remus sat down heavily at the table and exhaled slowly before asking, "How much time do we have?"

"We don't know," she answered truthfully as she grabbed a bottle of butterbeer and offered one to him, but he refused with a quick shake of the head. "We don't even have a definite plan yet, just to assemble the Order first and let Fudge take care of the Ministry."

"Right."

He shoved back his chair as he stood and crossed the kitchen to where Hermione stood near the stove, rummaged in a cabinet and withdrew a long parchment. Hermione recognized it immediately as the emergency contact list for the Order. 

"Are we to meet here?"

"No, Hogwarts. Tomorrow morning first thing."

He moved to the fireplace and grabbed a pinch of floo powder from the sack on the mantle and tossed it in. The flames leapt and snapped and turned brilliant emerald as he crouched before it. 

"The Burrow!" After a pause, he called, "Molly? Molly, are you there?"

Hermione heard the disembodied voice of Molly Weasley float back through the flames, even though she could see nothing of the conversation itself. 

"Remus, is everything alright?"

"No, we've got to move quickly. Emergency meeting of the Order, seven a.m. at Hogwarts tomorrow."

"What's wrong? Is everything --"

"Voldemort's moving -- really Molly, it's just a name -- but I need you to take care of your side of the list. Moody and Tonks are both here, so don't worry about either of them."

"I'll have Arthur notify everyone at the Ministry immediately."

"Tell him Harry's already gone to the Minister." 

"Of course. Be careful then, Remus."

He pulled back out of the fire and, brushing the soot from his shoulders, he turned to Hermione. "If you'll fill in Moody and Tonks, I'll get on my part of the list."

"Where are they?"

"Moody's in the first floor bedroom asleep, and Tonks --" his face turned pink and he looked at the floor, but a crash from the entrance hall followed by screams spared him from answering the question.

Hermione hurried out of the kitchen without giving much thought to Lupin's embarrassment about Tonks, not surprised to find her tugging on the curtains of Mrs. Black's portrait as the horrid old woman screeched.

"FOUL LITTLE MUDBLOODS! HOW DARE YOU DEFILE MY HOUSE, THE NOBLE AND MOST ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK!"

"Need a hand?" Hermione asked and she helped close the curtains and covered Mrs. Black once again.

"Hermione, thanks," she said with a grin. 

The screams from the portrait subsided somewhat, and Hermione surveyed the other witch. Nymphadora Tonks was slightly taller, skinnier than Hermione, almost painfully so, and her blonde hair hung in loose waves to her shoulders. 

"I like the blonde," Hermione said. "Very classic."

"What's going on?" a grizzled voice demanded from the top of the stairs and they both turned to see Moody clumping down the stairs, his eyes, both normal and magical, trained on the pair of witches in the hall.

"Emergency Order meeting," Hermione answered. "Everyone's to meet at Hogwarts at seven tomorrow morning."

"What's the emergency?"

"Is it Voldemort? Finally on the move?" asked Moody. Hermione nodded and he growled, "Took his bloody time."

"Where's Rem -- I mean, Lupin?" 

Hermione looked at Tonks appraisingly as the slightly older witch blushed and Hermione gave her a reassuring smile.

"He's in the kitchen, alerting his part of the list."

"Well, I had better get to the Ministry and speak with Arthur. This is terrible timing." Moody nodded at both of them before moving to the door and as the door shut, they could hear him muttering, "Constant vigilance! If they had only listened to me when…."

"Constant vigilance!" they chimed together and shared a grin. 

"Tonks, I hate to be nosy, but … is there something between you and Remus?"

The Metamorphmagus turned pink and grinned from ear to ear. "Is it that obvious? I didn't really want it getting around, for time being anyways."

"My lips are sealed," promised Hermione, happy for both of them. "I have to get back to Hogwarts, but I know you and Remus can handle things here."

"Of course. We'll see you first thing in the morning."

"Don't be late," she warned, a wink and sly smile playing across her face, and Tonks blushed again. 

Hermione left Grimmauld Place and apparated back to the path to Hogwarts, quickly making her way back to the castle. She was on edge, every rustling made her twitch and clutch at her wand, as though expecting a horde of Death Eaters to suddenly jump out of the dark and kill her where she stood. 

Finally the castle loomed before her, hundreds of pinpricks of light shining through the windows and she felt a measure of relief. She pushed through the heavy oak doors and started towards the first floor to find Minerva, but Severus's voice cut through the quiet and stopped her; he must have been hiding in the shadows and waiting for her return.

"And where is Potter?"

She whirled and glared at him. "I would assume he's still with the Minister since I didn't go with him."

"You let him go alone? And why should we trust him to go to the Minister?" 

He didn't have to say it, but she could see it on his hateful face: _Potter has betrayed us before, so why not again?_

"I don't have time for this," she said and turned away, but his hand shot out and grabbed her by the arm, spinning her around to face him, his black eyes burning holes into her.

"Your friend is not to be trusted."

"Let me go," she growled, growing angry and her hands balled into fists at her side.

"Or what?" he sneered, but he relented his grip. 

Hermione gave him a withering stare and said, "Do me a favor and stay away from me."

She spun on her heel and strode away from him, up the marble staircase, without leaving him opportunity for rebuttal. Severus glared at her, arms crossed, foot jittering impatiently on the floor, before retreating to his dungeons. 

His plan for Hermione seemingly had backfired. While envisioning distancing himself from her, he had expected her to cling to him more forcefully, to insist that they loved each other and could make things work through the separation that was to come when she left Hogwarts and returned to work as an auror for the Ministry. He certainly hadn't expected her to follow his lead and push him away. It was quite disconcerting, and he did not like it one bit.   
  
  
A/N:

Thanks to everyone who read and/or reviewed "The Best Laid Plans of Cats and Men" … writing it was greatly therapeutic, as you can see by Ch 32 coming only about 3 weeks after 31, rather than two months! I make no predictions on Ch 33 since I have a paper due, a Spanish project and two finals between now and the first week of May. As always, thank you greatly for the continued support! (And putting me over 300 reviews!!!) 


	33. Chapter Thirty Three

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Rating reminder: This is rated 'R' for various things (language, violence, sexual situations) so if any of those bother you, why are you still reading?? 

Chapter Thirty Three

Before leaving Dumbledore's office the previous evening, they had agreed upon the Room of Requirement as their meeting place, so Hermione made her way that direction early as to secure preparations, chiefly seating and perhaps food, but she was startled to find Harry already there a half-hour early. Chairs filled the room completely, around sixty in all if she had to hazard a guess, all grouped in fashion of a semi-circle with an open area at the front. Maps hung on the wall there, the only decoration in the otherwise white room: a few of England, one of the Ministry and Hogwarts, and even one of France. Harry, in jeans and a t-shirt, sat in one of the front-most chairs, staring at the map-covered wall but not seeing it as his thoughts were obviously elsewhere.

The sight of him assuaged a vague worry that had afflicted her since last night after her brush with Snape in the foyer, and she had wondered if he would come back at all, if it was just another ruse, and she felt relieved that she had been right in her gut feeling to trust him, even after everything.

"Hi," Hermione said softly since he hadn't seemed to notice her arrival and she didn't want to startle him, and she made her way towards him.

He woke from his reverie and managed a sad smile as he attempted to flatten his rumpled hair. He had dark circles under his eyes as well.

"When did you get here? I thought you were staying at the Burrow."

"I was, but I couldn't sleep, so I snuck out sometime around five, been here ever since. I figured I could be doing something rather than staring at the ceiling listening to Ron snore like a chainsaw."

Hermione sat down beside him and started to reach out a hand to his shoulder but checked herself and withdrew it. The old Hermione would have wanted to comfort the old Harry, but they were no longer their old selves and she didn't know how the new Hermione and Harry should interact. She asked only, "How are you doing?"

He shrugged, his shoulders barely lifting as he looked away. "It's hard to think of anything but Draco."

She didn't know how to respond and they sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. Finally, she stood and said, "Perhaps we should have refreshments, since it is so early. Some people might not have eaten breakfast."

"Whatever you think."

Glad to have something to do other than sitting in miserable quietude with him, Hermione pulled out her wand, scooted the chairs by the left side of the room away from the wall and conjured a long table, then she summoned a house elf for coffee, tea, and juice, as well as giving him instructions to bring some sort of breakfast pastry, his choice as she didn't feel like messing with such triviality herself. He and several other house elves returned almost immediately and covered the table with food and drink. 

"Does everyone know where the meeting is?" asked Harry after the house elves had left.

Hermione nodded and said, "Minerva is going to have someone downstairs directing everyone up here if they don't already know."

"Well, since it's still early, I'm going to duck out for a bit, if that's alright with you. Be back before it starts."

He left without waiting for reply, his shoulders hunched and eyes haunted. Hermione let him go with a frown, and she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down, wishing she knew what to do with Harry. Sipping the blistering coffee, she willed herself to think of nothing, not Harry or Voldemort or Severus, to sit in the silence, the calm before the storm.

Harry walked down the hall, his hands shoved into his pockets, and he wished he'd had the presence of mind to bring the invisibility cloak since he didn't much feel like talking to anyone. He walked aimlessly, changing directions whenever he heard a voice drifting his way or whenever he felt like it. Finally he found himself standing before the doors to the hospital wing, and he wondered if his subconscious had been directing him this way from the moment he had stepped foot outside the Room of Requirement. 

He hesitantly pushed through the doors and stopped just inside, looking for the mistress of the hospital wing and not wanting to intrude if she was busy with patients. Poppy was working in her office and she stepped out at the sound of the opening door. 

"Harry, good morning. Isn't it a bit early for you to be here?"

He managed a sheepish grin and said, "I wanted to see how Albus is doing."

"He's awake, or at least he was a few minutes ago. You can see him for a little bit if you'd like," she offered before adding the admonishment, "as long as you don't excite him too much."

"You know me, Poppy, I'd never get him stirred up."

She laughed at that and retreated to her office, the smile sliding from his face with each step towards the curtained area that hid Dumbledore from general view, no longer was he concealing the depression that weighted his shoulders. He didn't normally bother with Occlumency when he was around the old man, since he was perhaps the strongest Legilimens Harry had ever encountered, and he wasn't going to now even though Albus was in such a weakened state. He was tired of all the hiding.

He reached a hand out and pulled back the curtain; Albus had been sitting up but he jumped slightly, his eyes blinking as he awoke from a small doze.

"I'm sorry; Poppy thought you were still awake so I'll come back --"

"Harry," he said, his voice thick and deep. "I wondered when you'd come to see me."

Harry hesitated at the curtain before finally stepping through and moving to the side of the bed, forcing himself to meet the old wizard's gaze head on. 

"Please, sit."

He pulled up a chair, did as he was told, and waited. Dumbledore contemplated him for a time, his brilliant blue eyes dulled by something Pomfrey must have administered earlier, and Harry could feel the Legilimens rattling around a bit in his head, a rarity for usually he could never catch Dumbledore at it, though he was certain the old man used his tricks on everyone. Harry was, for once, quite jealous of Snape in that he was talented enough in Occlumency to keep Dumbledore out of his mind. 

"What would you care to talk about?"

"I wanted to explain --"

A kind look cut him short and Albus smiled gently. "There is no explanation necessary: I understand."

"No, I thought -- I thought I could still save everything regardless," Harry stammered, the smile disconcerting him and making him feel like he wasn't getting through to Dumbledore, that the old man couldn't have really seen everything there was to see in his head and interpreted it correctly. "That somehow I could betray everything and save it too."

"I know."

"I wasn't thinking, I couldn't ask anyone for help and not betray everything I was supposed to be working towards --"

"Harry." 

The voice was more insistent and the smile was gone, which is what Harry wanted, no needed; he needed to see Dumbledore upset. 

But Dumbledore reserved his anger for himself, not Harry.

"I gave you too much burden, between spying on Voldemort and caring for Draco at the same time. Of course it is natural that you would want to save the one you love." He raised a tired hand as Harry opened his mouth to interrupt and he continued, "I should have put more effort into finding a cure for Draco rather than push you further." A sigh escaped his lips and he broke his gaze from Harry's. "Even after all these years, I continue to ask so much of you, as if you haven't already done more than your share." 

"But it is my share. Until he's dead," said Harry quietly.

Albus looked up at that, his brow knitted as he looked at The Boy Who Lived. He wished again that somehow Harry could have been spared, that no one would have to bear the same responsibility that this brave child still had to carry. 

"I know, Harry. But until he is dead, I would take all other burdens from you to compensate for what you must do."

A silence descended upon them and Harry stared down at his worn trainers as Dumbledore watched him.

"It wasn't just Draco," Harry said at last; and this time Dumbledore didn't interrupt him, because this was more than even he had been able to deduce. "I was running away, from everything, and I had the perfect excuse: save Draco. But maybe he saw that and wouldn't let me betray everything in his name."

"I think you were very lucky to have had Mister Malfoy. It is very rare that one finds such a strong and true love."

Harry's emerald eyes teared up and he forcefully blinked back tears as he looked away from the kindness in the old man's eyes. It hurt so much to think of Draco. He chewed the inside of his cheek, the pain giving him a point of focus. 

"You should be going," Albus said finally. "You have a meeting to attend. Poppy says this afternoon I shall be 'released on my own recognizance,' as she put it, which I suppose means she wants me to stay in my bed rather than hers," he added with a smile and a twinkle. 

Harry laughed and bid Albus farewell and left the hospital wing just in time to catch Kingsley Shacklebolt on the stairs between fifth and sixth floors and they walked together the rest of the way.

"Kingsley," Harry said in acknowledgement and the older man nodded.

"Harry. I came straight from the Ministry and Alex Jones updated me before I left. Fudge already sent a team of aurors to France to assist the Magical Authority however they can."

"What about sending someone here? Hogwarts will be a huge target."

Kingsley shook his head as slowly as the words trickled from his mouth, "His primary concern is the Ministry, of course, and the Order can remain in charge of Hogwarts. Says Dumbledore can handle things here."

"That fucking imbecile," Harry swore. "We haven't even decided what to do with the students, but if Fudge doesn't send _some_ help, there's no way we can protect everyone."

"We should dismiss the students. They would be safer at home."

"Probably. But we'd have to send them all by Hogwarts Express and that would be quite a tempting target for Voldemort."

"We should discuss it with Albus," Kingsley said, running a hand over his gleaming head. "He will be at the meeting, yes?"

Harry shook his head. "No, he's still in the hospital wing, but he told me he would be out tonight."

They reached the Room of Requirement a few minutes before seven. No less than four people called for Harry as soon as he walked in, but he largely ignored everyone, even the cries of Ron and Hagrid though he threw hurried waves in their direction, instead walking to Arthur Weasley and Minerva McGonagall who stood at the front of the room by a lectern that had appeared since his earlier departure.

"Harry," Arthur said, reaching out his hand for Harry's. "Minerva and I were just discussing Albus."

"I just came from seeing him and he says Poppy is releasing him this afternoon."

"That's good to hear. Did Kingsley fill you in?"

"A bit. He told me that Hogwarts was on its own for the most part."

Frowning, Arthur nodded and said, "Though, I was able to convince him to allow those who belong to the Order to come here instead, with a few exceptions."

"Exceptions?" Minerva asked nervously. "Dare we ask?"

He snorted. "Harry and myself, along with a majority of the aurors."

"What? Those are the best-trained witches and wizards for this sort of thing!" Harry exclaimed, and he lowered his voice when people in the room glanced over. "The Ministry is Voldemort's secondary goal. He'll spend more time and effort on attacking Hogwarts!"

"Albus and I had discussed this previously, and while I agree with you, Albus believes that V-Voldemort will go after you first, regardless of where."

"Because he'll want Dumbledore to be alive so he can rub it in his face," Harry muttered.

"Exactly," Arthur said, pointing a finger at Harry. "While Fudge might want you around for different reasons Albus, I think he would agree with the Minister and want you away from Hogwarts. However, I'm sure Albus will be able to persuade him to allow a number of the aurors to remain."

Minerva glanced away from them, realized most of the chairs were now filled, the occupants chatting amongst themselves, many of the voices querulous and concerned, and she turned back to say, "It is time to begin. Arthur, would you start with the Ministry's plans?"

"Of course." 

Minerva went to sit with Flitwick and Sprout, and Harry moved to an open chair in Ron's general vicinity. The two shared grins as Arthur Weasley cleared his voice and the chatter faded away.

"Good morning. I'm sure most of you have heard by now why we're here. Yes, it's true. Voldemort is finally ready to make his move." A few people muttered at the mention of his name, but Arthur ignored them. "The Minister ordered a team of four aurors to Paris to assist the French Magical Authority in anyway possible, and another two to Beauxbatons as well.

"If France is attacked, we will most certainly be attacked as well. We don't have an exact number, but he does have at least eighty Death Eaters ready to assemble in Europe alone, but we expect double that in an attack upon the Ministry or Hogwarts." 

He paused to take a sip of his tea then continued, "Our most recent intelligence said that he would be assembling his European forces in two weeks, but recent events may have sped up Voldemort's timetable or nullified it completely."

"So what are you telling us, Arthur? That the Ministry doesn't know its head from its arse?" cracked Mundungus Fletcher from near the food table to a smattering of laughter.

"That wasn't quite the point I was trying for, Mundungus, thank you. We are more inclined, and it is in our best interest as well, to believe that he will be attacking sooner rather than later, for personal reasons." His eyes met Harry's, but Arthur quickly looked away.

The previous evening in the Minister's office, Harry told a highly edited version of events to Fudge and Arthur Weasley which included nothing about Harry taking polyjuice and going to the meetings himself. Instead, they believed Draco had been the spy and somehow his position had been compromised.

"The Minister has not allowed for any extra personnel to be assigned to Hogwarts, other than those already in the Order."

"With exceptions!" Minerva interjected loudly from her seat.

"With exceptions, Minerva is correct. I must continue my duties as Deputy Minister of course, as will most of the aurors and a few more necessary people."

"What!" cried Tonks as she bolted upright, ignoring Remus Lupin's attempts to pull her back to her seat, but she was not the only one on her feet. Ron and Kingsley joined her, as did Tabitha Meadows and Kimball Prewett, two of the more recent Hogwarts graduates that had become aurors and also joined the Order. 

"Yes, Nymphadora, we are all outraged, but I hope to convince Fudge to allow a number of the aurors in the Order to be assigned here. Barring that, the aurors will still be expected to be here in their off hours."

As Arthur continued to speak, Harry allowed his mind to drift since he already knew the Ministry's plans to prepare for the Dark Lord's attack. 

Albus's words had made him feel marginally better, but Draco was still gone and it simply boiled down to it all being his fault, regardless of how much blame Dumbledore chose to heap on himself. His eyes drifted over to Snape, who sat rail straight and arms crossed on the end of a row with an empty chair on the other side. The Potions Master glared with seeming disinterest at some point on the map behind Arthur Weasley but Harry could tell he was listening intently.

He still couldn't grasp what Hermione saw in the man, Harry's eyes tracking over to where she sat a few rows away as she looked away from Severus back to Arthur, and Harry suppressed a grin. She always went for the unlikeliest of blokes, Victor Krum included. His eyes moved back to the object of Hermione's affection and he forced a cough to cover the laugh that caught in his throat as he caught Snape looking at her in turn.

He decided then to take advantage of Snape's preoccupation with the meeting to try out his theory that he was a better Legilimens than Snape was an Occlumens. He'd made that statement as an idle boast yesterday to Hermione, not thinking that he would actually have to try to break into Snape's mind, but the man had lasted as a spy right under Voldemort's nose for some seven years, and Voldemort was a powerful Legilimens. Now it was a matter of pride for him to break into the mind that even the Dark Lord couldn't. And he was very curious himself to see what had been going on between the two since Hermione hadn't exactly been forthcoming with details.

Harry looked around a moment to find the clearest shot he had of Snape, which wasn't very clear at all, so he casually stood and moved to the table of refreshments and poured a coffee, simply to take a free spot a few rows back from Snape. Without removing it, he pointed his wand inside his robes towards Snape and said in a tiny puff of breath, "_Legilimens_."

A whirl of images engulfed Harry and he reached out a hand as if he could use physical force to slow the blurring pictures. One flew by and Harry, recognizing bushy hair, concentrated. The picture slowed and he could see it, just barely before another took its place -- the grown Hermione standing over a cauldron as Snape watched from across the room -- Hermione sleeping in his arms on the hospital bed -- Hermione and Harry running at him from across the field as another shock of avada kedavra ripped through his chest -- Hermione writhing under him in the throes of passion.

The randomness of the images threw Harry off and he couldn't make any clear associations until one came up, more vivid than the others. Snape walked down the hallway, away from her but still hearing her voice and wanting to answer. But years of self-preservation propelled him away. 

Suddenly, everything made sense and Harry just about laughed from the ridiculousness of it: Snape, who instilled more fear than any wizard besides the Dark Lord himself, was _afraid_, afraid of losing Hermione at the end of the school year. Harry could see it plain as day, that Snape loved her more than anything and was only doing what he thought best for himself. Harry gently eased himself back out of Snape's mind, somehow certain that Snape would take great pleasure in causing Harry as much pain as possible for witnessing such intimate scenes; he certainly didn't want to get caught on his way out.

He looked back to Arthur who was now answering questions and out of the corner of his eye he saw Snape's head whip around and scan the room until the black eyes came to rest upon Harry. But Harry was ready for him; already he had a picture of Draco naked on their bed sporting an enormous erection as Harry moved towards him, his head lowering --

A blast of repulsion told him Snape had got an eyeful of something he wished he hadn't. Harry smiled, knowing Snape would certainly interpret it incorrectly, though he was truly glad he made the right decision by not trying to block Snape's entrance but rather to let Snape think he'd been occupied with other thoughts.

"Are there no other questions? Very well. Minerva do you have anything to add?" Arthur asked.

Minerva stood and addressed the Order from her place.

"The members of the Order that are not required to remain with the Ministry will rotate standing guard here at Hogwarts. Please remain after the meeting so we can make a schedule. Also, anyone who might wish to actually remain here for the time being may do so."

"When will Albus be back?" asked someone from the other side of the room, Elphias Doge, Harry guessed from the sound of the wheezing voice.

"From my understanding, he will be released from the infirmary today."

Kingsley brought up the subject he had spoken with Harry about previously and asked, "Will you be sending the children home to their parents?"

"I was going to discuss that with the Headmaster, but it is a possibility."

"What about that miracle potion Snape's been hiding?" Ron called out. "Is it ready yet?"

"I will allow Severus to answer that himself," Minerva said then motioned him to stand.

Harry's eyebrow jerked up and his attention snapped to Snape, who most likely wouldn't appreciate the sudden opportunity to speak about his potion, and the Potions Master glowered at the witch but refused to stand, instead speaking from his chair.

"The mortalis fallax potion is as ready as it will be for all intents and purposes. Right now it will allow the drinker to survive three curses of avada kedavra." Astonished oohs and ahhs filled the room, but he quickly cut them off, "Survive, not walk away, and there is a chance of death resulting from the aftereffects of the potion and the curse."

"How much supply do you have, Severus?" Arthur asked.

"I would have to check to be sure but I believe I have enough for one dose per Order member," he answered. "It can take up to ten minutes for the potion to reach full potency and the effects will only last for approximately five hours so it is very important not to take the potion until necessary."

"How long will it take you to have doses for everyone?"

After a moment of thinking, he said, "I can have them ready this evening."

"Very good. Is there anything further? Then we are finished. Remember everyone must see Minerva about taking shifts here at the castle, aside from aurors. You may speak with her later."

Harry stood along with everyone else, grinning as Moody yelled across the rising chatter of voices, "Minerva, I'll be staying here of course. Your students will no doubt need the additional practice in Defence Against the Dark Arts."

He didn't hear McGonagall's reply as Ron had made his way over and started on about Ginny's last quidditch game, acting as though he wasn't worried one whit about Voldemort but Harry was too busy watching Hermione and Arthur Weasley talking at the front of the room and he quickly saw that she was becoming agitated.

"This is unfair, Arthur! I was assigned here for the duration of the year!"

Ron immediately shut up and followed Harry as he went to see what was happening.

"I know, I know," Arthur was saying in an attempt to placate her, but it was obvious to her oldest friends that Hermione was only growing angrier.

"Albus won't allow it, you know it!"

Harry asked, "What's going on?"

"I'm getting fucked is what's going on, by Fudge," she answered with a scowl, her arms folded across her chest.

"Now Hermione, I'm sure Albus will talk Fudge into letting you stay."

"What's she talking about, Dad?" Ron implored, looking to his father.

Arthur sighed and said, "Hermione is included in the aurors that will be staying at the Ministry. She's being pulled from Hogwarts."

"But who's going to take up her classes?" Harry asked.

"Someone from the Order, most likely. But I believe there is a good chance Albus can talk to Fudge and allow her to remain."

"This is ridiculous," Hermione said resignedly. "But I'm going to finish out today at least since there won't be anyone ready to take over immediately."

"Of course," Arthur said. "Excuse me, but I need to speak with Albus before returning to the Ministry."

Hermione stood silently as Harry and Ron discussed whether or not Dumbledore could persuade Fudge into leaving a few of the aurors at Hogwarts. She had assumed she would remain at Hogwarts since she was now a teacher, regardless of what happened at the Ministry, and the news otherwise troubled her. It was not lost on her, the irony of the outrage she felt both at suddenly being reassigned to Hogwarts then and now again suddenly reassigned away from Hogwarts, but the reasons this time were much more personal.

Her eyes scanned the room for the tall figure in black robes and found him, glaring back at her, angry, hurt, and a little disappointed, and she knew he had caught enough of the conversation to know she would be leaving prematurely. Hermione frowned as he stalked out of the room.

"I better go get things ready for my replacement."

"Let me walk with you to your first class," Harry said.

"I don't have a class immediately, but you could join me as I walk to my office to grade papers," she countered.

"Alright. Ron, I'll be back, so don't go anywhere." 

"Sure, mate. After I talk to McGonagall, I'll be in the Great Hall. I need a real breakfast -- eggs and sausage and all that. This isn't doing anything for me," Ron said, motioning to the table of pastries. 

Hermione rolled her eyes and ignored Ron's comment. "Let's go, Harry." 

They edged through all the people still in the room, though neither could escape Molly and had to hug her and Ginny both, though Fred, George and Bill all settled for handshakes, until finally they were in the hallway outside the Room of Requirement and headed in the direction of Hermione's office on the second floor. 

"You wanted to talk about something?" Hermione asked as they reached the fourth floor. 

"About Snape. This is weird, talking to you about him." 

"What's so weird? We used to do it all the time."

"Don't be thick, you know what I mean," Harry said. He paused before continuing, "So I got into his head."

Hermione stopped dead in the hall and stared open-mouthed at him. When he had broached the subject yesterday, she had dismissed it as random bragging. But if Harry had really had entered Severus's mind --

"Well?" she asked impatiently when he didn't immediately share the secret. 

"He's crazy about you, 'Mione. That's the problem." Confusion appeared on her face and Harry couldn't help but laughing. "He's afraid of losing you in summer when your assignment is finished."

"Oh gods, and now he thinks I'm leaving immediately!" she exclaimed. "He'll be furious!"

"Think of those poor, unsuspecting students that have to survive that wrath today." 

Wringing her hands, she began to pace a four foot patch of hall. "So what do I do? I've always been so inept at this sort of thing!" 

Harry bit back a laugh as he watched his old friend fret like a schoolgirl over her crush, something he had never witnessed before with Hermione, who had always been too sensible to let silly things like love stand in her never-ending quest to succeed academically. 

"Hermione, you have to talk to him."

"But he'll be angry and it will be impossible!"

"He might seem angry," he replied with a smile, "and he might actually think it too, but 'Mione, I saw it. I saw how much he loves you."

"You're certain." Harry nodded and Hermione smiled as her eyes teared up. She hurriedly rubbed them and sniffed, saying, "Well, I'm glad to have that settled."

She started walking again, with Harry at her side, passing a group of fifth and sixth year Gryffindors returning to the common room after breakfast.

After the students were out of earshot, Harry asked, "How do you feel about him? Do you love him?"

She thought for a moment before answering. "I do. I didn't realize it until just then, but I do love him."

"Severus Snape," Harry muttered. "Who would've thought?"

"Like you're one to talk," Hermione retorted with a grin, which faltered when she realized she was referring to Draco. "Oh, Harry, I'm sorry --" 

Shaking his head, he said, "It's okay. I have to get used to the idea that he's gone."

Hermione stopped and grabbed his hand. "You know I'm here for you, whatever you need."

"Thanks, I know," Harry said, squeezing her hand. "Look, I better get back to talk to Minerva. I'm going to stay here when I'm not at the Ministry, so even if you're not here to watch over Snape, I will be."

She laughed and answered, "I was more concerned about the kids, but thank you."

"Now you go kiss and make up."

Hermione walked the rest of the way to her office, went about grading papers and somehow made it through to lunch even though the entire time her mind was preoccupied with one thing: Severus Snape loved her. 

During lunch, she caught his eye only once, and then he glared at her, and the rest of the time he pointedly avoided even looking down the opposite end of the table where she sat beside Hagrid. She endured some small talk with the half-giant, and even endured the rest of the school day until finally the last class ended. 

Hermione had not decided upon a plan of action as she started towards the dungeons. But then, all she could to do was talk to him and that was the only plan needed. She checked the Marauder's Map and found him in the laboratory, probably preparing the potion for distribution, and no doubt he would need assistance in preparing the potion for mass production.

Severus paced the laboratory in his white shirt, his long coat having previously been ripped off and thrown into the other chair in a fit of irritation, and he glared at nothing. He flung himself into his chair and sulked. He had done all he could with the potion for the time being, had previously read the newest _Ars Alchema_ and now had nothing to do but sit and think.

A knock at the door surprised him, though he was only half-surprised when Hermione put her head in a moment later. 

"I thought you might could use some help," she said quietly as she shut the door behind her. 

"Thank you, but I have everything under control, as you can see," he sneered, fixing her with a glare to melt steel.

She ignored it and walked over to the potion, turning her back to him. "Have you already started another potion? How are you going to pass out the doses? I would imagine small vials on a string to go around the neck would be a good way to do it."

He scowled at her and crossed the room so that she could see him scowling and know that he did not need her presence. "I have already taken care of that," he growled. 

Severus was standing beside her when she turned. Hermione looked at him for a long moment before sighing and looking away. Now or never.

"Severus, I don't want to fight you. I can't do it anymore, not with everything else going on." Her voice was quiet and even, and she finally looked up into his masked eyes. "I just, I want to be with you."

Whatever Severus thought himself ready for, it wasn't that. He stared at her soundlessly as he did not know how to respond. He blinked and looked away, unable to answer her.

Hermione, not quite as surprised at his lack of answer as he was, hoped that she correctly interpreted his silence as meaning he didn't know what to do. She lifted her hand to his face, her fingers running the length of his sharp jaw, and gently turned him back to look at her. 

"I don't want to waste anymore time without you."

As his mind reeled, his eyes burned into her but Hermione held the gaze unflinchingly. This was his choice: he could continue to resist her while knowing how much he truly longed for her, or he could just give in and let things end up as they may. She let her hand fall from his face but Severus caught her wrist and pulled her close, feeling a surprised _oh!_ slip from her mouth as he ducked his head to capture her lips with his. His hands slipped inside her robes with the ease of familiarity and came to rest on her hips as her hands immediately moved to his neck and tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer, and without moving away from her. 

He kissed and teased her neck, trailing his tongue over all the sensitive spots while his left hand slipped between them and worked its way under her t-shirt to cup her breast through her bra, thumb grazing across the nipple. Her hands abandoned his hair and feverishly went to work on unbuttoning his white shirt, though she was greatly distracted when he dissolved the bra with a whisper and she gasped as he pinched her newly freed nipple and nipped at her collarbone.

"Severus," she murmured, then again louder when he didn't respond. He brought his head up and he nearly growled at the look in her eyes. "I -- I just want you to know. I love you."

And Severus Snape, who had long given up any thought or notion of such ridiculousness as romantic love, thought his heart would explode. He ravaged her lips with a never before felt passion and swept her into his arms and carried her off to his quarters.

Afterwards, they lay together without sheet, allowing the cool dungeon air to swirl around them, Severus spooning up and cradling Hermione, one hand in her hair, the other drawing lazy circles on her upper arm, and his leg splayed possessively over hers. Her breathing evened and she sighed as all the muscles relaxed simultaneously and she melted even further into his arms. He buried his face in the mass of frizzy curls and breathed deeply. 

"I love you, Hermione," he murmured, and somewhere, on the edge of sleep, she heard him and smiled.

  


Hermione bolted upright in bed and Severus was already halfway across the room, pulling on his robe as the pounding came again from the door. A glance at the clock told her it was nearly six in the evening.

"Snape! Hermione!" 

She could hear Harry's voice through the thick wood, and through her sleep-induced haze, she heard the urgency and snapped awake. She couldn't find her clothes on the floor, so she just grabbed a set of Severus's teaching robes and followed him out.

Harry stood in the doorway, and Hermione was startled to see that he looked scared as he told them, "France has been attacked, and only the aurors that went to Beauxbatons made it out alive, and then with only about sixty of the students."

"What?" Severus hissed. 

"They think there were no survivors from the Magical Authority."

"Oh gods!" Hermione cried. 

"It would seem I pushed Voldemort's timetable ahead considerably."

Severus looked sharply at both of them. "We have to get the potion ready, now. Potter, you help too."  
  
  
A/N:

So to blatantly copy my favorite fanfic author, I have posted a chapter on my birthday, as a present to all of you. (That and it was a convenient deadline for me to make me finish.) So as _your_ present to me, each of you -- and I mean each! -- must leave me a review with three things: 1.) birthday greeting of some sort; 2.) one thing you like about the story; 3.) one thing you dislike about the story. 

Ok, so really all three are optional, as is leaving the review itself, really, since I can't really use the threat of not finishing the story because this is starting to kill me now, but that's off-topic. Thanks for everyone who helped to spot grammar and run-on sentences. It seems the new document manager is taking away some of my formating, which is quite irritating. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it … the chapter kept growing and growing even as I was writing it. School's over so hopefully I can get a lot of writing done over the summer, and maybe, just maybe, finish it! Thanks again for reading!

Also, remember the part where Snape dissolved her bra? Well, that's not mine, I borrowed it from Shiv5468's "Hermione Pulls It Off," another great fic,. Thanks, Shiv…. 


	34. Chapter Thirty Four

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Thirty Four

Albus Dumbledore sat with his hands folded in his lap as he sat in a chair by the fire, his blue eyes pale and serious as he watched the head of Cornelius Fudge surrounded by emerald flames. Harry and McGonagall sat in chairs by the the desk while Remus Lupin and Kingsley Shacklebolt stood nearby, all watching Dumbeldore dominate the conversation, though at times they had to strain to hear the conversation over the incessant nattering of the dozen owls that waited for replies from the Headmaster. 

"Yes, you're right to leave Kingsley here. And I must also ask you to allow Hermione Granger remain here, as I will not be able to find a suitable replacement in the short notice you have given, not to mention she will be an asset while protecting the children since they are all familiar with her."

"Of course, Dumbledore, of course. Shacklebolt and Granger are obvious exceptions. But now, you don't need Potter, now do you?" Fudge asked, worry on his face. "I think he would be of greater use here with the Ministry."

"That is fine, Cornelius. I will be sending him on his way shortly."

"But Albus--" Harry began, but the old wizard cut him off with a look, and Harry scowled at the floor.

"What of the children? I have received many owls from concerned parents."

"As have I. We will be sending the children home in the morning, and I will need a team of aurors to protect the Hogwarts Express. Of course, I will be sending members of the Order as well, but I feel the more protection for our children, the better."

"Very well, I believe I can spare a team of four aurors," Fudge answered. "They will be at Hogwarts first thing in the morning."

"Thank you, Cornelius. By six-thirty, if you don't mind."

"Of course, Dumbledore."

"One last thing. If worse comes to worst, my students may have to defend themselves, and it would create a burden on the Ministry if the underage wizardry ban were still in effect. Perhaps it could be suspended temporarily."

Fudge wasn't keen on agreeing with Dumbledore on that point, but he promised to think it over. "For the time being, I think it wisest to leave it in place. We shall keep you apprised of the situation here."

Fudge's head disappeared and the green flames faded and disappeared and Albus turned back to meet Harry's disapproving stare. 

"Harry, I know you wish to be here for the battle, but I believe the Ministry will be better equipped to handle an attack from Voldemort, whilst giving you the best opportunity to defeat him," Dumbledore replied to the unanswered question on Harry's tongue. "Once the students are safely away, Hogwarts becomes less of a tempting target."

A tawny owl flew through the open window and dropped a red letter, a howler, on the desk before Harry could reply.

McGonagall exclaimed, "Oh Merlin, not another!" 

Dumbledore whipped out his wand and a bolt of light shot out as he muttered, "_Silencio_." 

He calmly opened the now-disabled howler and read the contents. He dropped the letter and rubbed his eyes behind the half-moon lenses. "Another parent wants to know what we're going to do about the situation."

"As though we're going to parade the children around on the battlefield just for He-Who-- oh, alright, Voldemort," she responded vehemently. "What are we going to do?"

"I believe we must issue letters of reassurance to the parents. Tell them that for the safety of the children, they will be leaving first thing in the morning and parents should make arrangements to pick them up at Kings Cross at one-thirty."

"Let me see to that," Minerva said briskly and standing. "You will address the students?"

He nodded. "At dinner. No doubt many have already received news from parents and the rest will hear rumors and variants of the truth."

McGonagall left to send letters to hundreds of parents and Albus turned to Lupin. "Remus, can you check on Severus and Hermione and their progress with the potion? And ask them to join us at dinner."

* * *

Hermione and Severus finally stopped to admire their work.

In the frantic hour since Potter's arrival in the dungeons, they had managed to prepare the mortalis fallax potion for mass distribution in small vials to be worn around the neck, as Hermione had suggested. She and Harry had transfigured the vials of roughly equal size from the eighty-odd mismatched sizes they had procured throughout the dungeons, while Severus prepared the potion for short-term storage. Dumbledore had summoned Harry, leaving Severus and Hermione to place a protective charm on each of the vials to keep it safe from accidental breakage, as well as keeping the potion stable.

A knock at the door and Remus Lupin's head popped through. 

"Hermione, Severus," he greeted them. "Albus wants an update on the potion before dinner."

"It's ready," Hermione answered. "We have seventy-six doses in all."

Remus moved further into the lab and began walking around, his eyes filled with intense curiosity. 

"How long have you two been working on this potion?" he asked. 

Severus's eyes found hers and she thought she saw a smile there when she called over her shoulder to Lupin, "About six years now, I think."

He joined them by the ready vials and said, "Oh, Albus also wants you in the Great Hall for dinner."

"What, for moral support?" Severus growled and Hermione squashed a laugh. "He'll be addressing the students and he likes to have all of the teachers with him to show solidarity. Surely you both have recognized it."

She looked at him puzzled but Lupin nodded. "I think I did notice it, once or twice."

"Well, we should go on then because it's nearly seven," she said, then turned looked at Severus with a playful smile. "Besides, I'm sure you'll have plenty of opportunity to deduct some House points on the way. It's a good thing a lot of the Order decided to stay here, since the students might need a little more … guidance than normal."

"Great, I was hoping to be responsible for children again," Remus muttered.

"And I thought you were the favourite Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher ever in Hogwarts history," Severus said, his voice silky but lacking its usual bite. 

Hermione was surprised to see a smirk on his face as was Remus, but he recovered quickly and laughed. "I don't know about that. I'm sure Hermione's great at teaching DADA."

She shrugged and said, "I was in your classes and students didn't fall asleep in them like they do mine."

"No one falls asleep in my classes," Severus said with a certain smugness.

Hermione argued, "That's because you'd dock fifty House points and everyone knows it!"

The smirk resurfaced and he said, "One of the benefits of having the little prats hate me."

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head and they left the dungeons for the Great Hall. Inside, Albus had conjured several round tables that fit between the High Table and the House tables, and most of the chairs were filled by members of the Order. Remus moved to join them while Severus took his customary seat at the end of the table by Slytherin and Hermione found one between Vasily Borodin, the Arithmancy teacher, and Madam Hooch. 

Dinner was simple: roast chicken, boiled potatoes, peas and carrots, with éclairs and pudding for dessert. Hermione chatted as much quidditch with Hooch as she could stand before talking with Vasily about the newest theories in Arithmancy. He was surprised to know that she stayed up on the field even though she didn't often have a chance for practical use.

"Obviously you didn't know me as a student," she said with a smile. "Your predecessor, Professor Vector, could certainly attest to my love of Arithmancy."

When it became clear that a number of students had finished with dessert, Albus stood and cleared his throat and talk quickly died down over the Great Hall, spoons hung halfway to their destinations.

"I know many of you have heard rumors and whispers in the hallways and common rooms today about Voldemort, and unfortunately, some of them are true."

Murmurs rippled through the tables until he spoke again.

"Voldemort did attack the French Magical Authority and Beauxbatons, and many were killed on both sides. Now there is possibility that he and his followers will attack the Ministry or even Hogwarts."

Excited chatter burst forth, but Dumbledore did not silence it immediately, simply waiting until it lessened to continue, "You will all be returning home in the morning, where you will be safer from attack. You may pack one small bag to bring only, for we do not have enough time to worry about luggage. And of course, familiars may be brought as well."

"What about using reduction spells?" an older girl asked from Ravenclaw, and Hermione had to hide a smirk when Ron and Ginny both caught her eye, because it sounded like something she herself would have asked. "Can we use those?"

Dumbledore nodded and answered, "Yes, you may use magic you have previously learned in your experience at Hogwarts, and you may use it if a situation arises where you must defend yourself or your family."

On this pause, the room was quiet as the true seriousness of the situation dawned on them. 

"Are there any further questions?"

McGonagall, who had arrived late to dinner, whispered something from the side and Dumbledore nodded.

"There are a number of witches and wizards staying at Hogwarts," he said, motioning to the tables on the floor. "They are to be treated the same as you would a teacher, and they will be able to deduct House points as well.

"Now for those of you concerned with finishing the academic year --" a few laughs answered his smile, as well as a few frowns from the more serious students "-- do not worry. You will receive an owl from myself or Professor McGonagall with instructions on returning to Hogwarts for the completion of the year. Fifth and seventh years will have additional time before taking their tests as well.

"Now everyone shall return to their dormitories and pack their bags. I would also suggest turning in early, as the carriages will be waiting outside at six-thirty and will leave promptly at seven." He stared over his half-moon glasses at the students, somehow his eyes reaching out to each of them in that quick moment. "I would advise each of you to make it on time."

Dismissed, the students filed out of the Great Hall, the level of chatter lower than usual as the students whispered to one another. The teachers lingered behind, as did the Order members and Albus, still standing, addressed them once the room was clear of students. 

"I have spoken with the Minister and I have arranged for both Kingsley and Hermione to remain here."

Severus cut a sharp look down the table to Hermione and she raised her eyebrows at him before turning her attention back to the Headmaster. 

"He is also providing an escort of four aurors to accompany the students to the Hogwarts Express and on to London, as will some of you: Minerva, Emmeline, Remus, Sturgis, Hermione and Filius. 

"I am also informed that the mortalis fallax potion is ready for distribution and everyone should stop by the dungeons and speak with Professors Snape or Granger to receive theirs, as well as instructions on use. The Hogwarts Express escort must stay to finalise details for the morning. Everyone else, you are free to leave unless you are scheduled to stand guard. And I do expect all teachers to be present in the morning to assist with students."

Everyone rose from their chairs and Snape grasped Hermione's elbow lightly as she passed, murmuring, "I'll be waiting."

She moved to the floor below the High Table where Emmeline Vance, Sturgis Podmore and Remus stood patiently. Dumbledore, McGonagall and Flitwick followed her down, and Harry stayed behind also, having finally given up on changing the old man's mind about letting him remain at Hogwarts.

"Harry will be going with you as far as Kings Cross, but then he must apparate to the Ministry." Albus turned his gaze down to the tiny Charms professor and said, "Filius, I trust you can manage keeping the train out of plain view?"

"Of course, of course! A handful of reflective charms should do the trick! I will attend to it first thing in the morning!"

"I can assist you, Filius, if you wish," Emmeline said. 

Flitwick exclaimed, "Thank you! I would appreciate the help and I seem to remember you being quite handy with charms!"

"Then the two of you shall go straight to the train station in the morning while the others remain with the students and the carriages. I want everyone to be rested for tomorrow," Dumbledore said, and Hermione was certain his blue eyes remained much longer on her than truly necessary to emphasize the point, "but be prepared as well. That is all."

Harry waited for Hermione to catch up with him just inside the doors and he asked, "What was that about? Being prepared?"

Hermione shook her head. "Who knows?"

They slipped past Colin and Dennis Creevey, both of whom had volunteered to stay at Hogwarts, as they chattered excitedly with Hagrid right outside the Great Hall, as well as the Weasley twins who were huddled off to the side with an older Gryffindor.

Hermione sighed and said, "I suppose I should go do something about that."

Harry laughed and said, "Good times." 

"You know, I think I'll let Filch deal with it later," she said with a smile and they headed towards the dungeons without interrupting the impending transaction. "I'd better help Severus pass out those vials. He'll get irritable if he has to deal with everyone by himself."

Harry grinned at her. "So you two made up?"

She smiled demurely and said, "We managed to reach a mutually satisfying cessation of aggression."

"A cessation of aggression?" he laughed. "If that's what you want to call it. Since you'll probably be occupied tonight, I'm going to get my potion and join Hagrid for a drink."

"Just be careful. You don't want to get into a drinking contest with a half-giant when you have to be up at six-thirty."

"Oh, I'll just get you to brew me up a hangover potion in the morning."

She snorted. "I wouldn't need to brew it, because I have enough foresight to keep a supply on hand, ready for moment's notice."

* * *

Hermione woke early and quietly slipped out of bed so she wouldn't disturb the gently snoring Severus. She hurried into the shower and it was nearly six when she emerged ready and dressed in grey trousers and a white cotton shirt. Severus stirred and raised up on one arm. 

"You have to go," he stated, his voice heavy with sleep. 

She moved to the bed and perched beside him, her left hand brushing back a lock of hair from the side of his face. He grabbed her wrist and kissed it, his tongue branding her cool flesh, and she lowered her mouth to his. His hand caught in her mess of curls and he pulled her closer. 

Finally Hermione broke off the kiss, and not a moment too soon judging by the passion glittering in those black eyes. He abruptly sat up and slipped around her, intent on the bathroom. He paused at the door and gave her a piercing look.

"I'll be waiting," he said, then turned and shut the door.

Hermione stared after him for a moment and smiled, grabbed her robes and wand, and left his quarters. She stopped by the lab to pick up a few extra vials of the potion for the aurors, as well as double-checking hers to be under her shirt.

She went to the Great Hall and joined Dumbledore and a handful of other teachers who had managed to wake up early enough for breakfast with the students, as well as two-thirds of the students who were chittering nervously over half-eaten plates of eggs and bacon and porridge. 

Hermione could only stomach a strong cup of coffee, so she sat beside McGonagall and watched the students. Slowly the minutes ticked by until it was six-twenty and she left the Hall heading for the front doors. It seemed the aurors had just arrived, and the four of them stood inside the doors speaking in quiet voices with Sturgis Podmore, a tall straw haired wizard with pale green eyes. 

Hermione approached the group and nodded. She recognized all of the aurors: Britt Oudekirk, a tall, brown-haired wizard in his thirties; Yori Saito, a short, pretty witch from Japan a few years older than Hermione; Andrew McKay, a veteran auror, black and silver hair with a booming voice; and a wiry, twitchy wizard by the name of Dwaine Garvey.

She handed each of them a vial and said, "Take this if something happens. It will protect you from three hits of avada kedavra, though after the third, you'll feel like death." 

Britt muttered as he rotated the bottle in his hand, "So it really does exist."

"I told you it was possible to defeat the killing curse," said Yori, ignoring Britt as he rolled his eyes at her.

Andrew asked, "I think you have a better handle on the situation here so what do you want us to do, Hermione?" 

"I think we should split up, one of us every few coaches on the way to the station, then of course on the train. The prefects can assist us as well."

The aurors all nodded in agreement and went outside to watch for the arrival of the coaches, while Hermione remained inside to wait for the students, although a few stood around already, watching the proceedings. 

A few minutes later, Britt stuck his head back in and announced, "The carriages are here."

He and Hermione propped open the heavy doors and began ushering the growing number of students outside into the early morning light, sun obscured by grey clouds threatening rain, and she organized the students so there would be one prefect per carriage, with an auror or member of the Order every fourth. 

As seven o'clock neared and teachers swept the castle for any remaining students, Hermione stood with Harry and Remus as they waited for Minerva's proclamation that no student was left behind. Finally, she emerged dragging a second year Hufflepuff by the shoulder and signaled for everyone to get ready. Harry ran off to the first carriage while Hermione and Remus took the last two. 

As soon as she had settled in with her group of students, the carriage lurched to a start and they were headed towards Hogsmeade. A feeling of nervousness settled on her as they moved through the trees, but she forced the anxiety away and glanced out the window. The normally quick trip felt longer and more dangerous than ever before, but soon the carriage slowed and they reached the station without incident. 

Students piled out of the carriages and headed for the platform and the train waiting to return them to London. Hermione admonished a group of fifth years that shoved past some younger students, but largely the group efficiently boarded the Hogwarts Express and soon only the adults, minus Flitwick and Emmeline Vance, remained on the platform.

"Filius and Emmeline will be going with the train to maintain the invisibility charm, as will the aurors and Mister Potter and myself," Minerva said. "Of course Filius, Emmeline and I will return to Hogwarts, while everyone else goes on to the Ministry."

"What about the three of us then?" asked Sturgis. "Do we go back to Hogwarts?"

Minerva shook her head. "Albus asked me this morning to check in on his brother before returning to the school."

"Aberforth?" asked Hermione. "Why?"

"He wouldn't say, just muttered something under his breath about goats and invisibility spells."

Sturgis grimaced as he said, "Then I hope Aberforth knows why we're stopping."

"That's the idea," Minerva said as she turned towards the train. "You know where to find him, of course."

"I've got an idea," Hermione answered.

As they watched Minerva board, the train faded from sight, one car at a time, until there was no evidence that the train existed. Even the steam and noise disappeared.

Hermione turned to Remus and asked, "The Hog's Head?"

He nodded at her. "Let's get going."

They walked into Hogsmeade and Hermione marveled that the town was so quiet, even at seven-thirty in the morning and they reached the Hog's Head Inn without passing another person. 

The front door was locked when Hermione tried it, so she knocked hesitantly at first, and then louder after there was no response. A glass shattered inside and someone muttered curses, then the door sprang open to reveal a tall man with long grey hair and beard, and he didn't seem thrilled to find them on his doorstep so early in the morning.

"What the bloody hell do you want? We're not open!"

Hermione frowned at Remus, who only shrugged. "Albus sent us."

Immediately the blue eyes settled on her and Hermione felt a curious sensation as she realized they were exactly the same as Albus's, only lacking the twinkle. 

"And why should I believe you? I don't know any of you!"

"I met you once, in the first Order," Remus said, and the old man peered at him, but there was no recognition on his face.

"I don't remember you. If you lot are from Albus, you could prove it."

Hermione thought back to what McGonagall had told them when it clicked and she blurted, "You're working invisibility charms on goats!"

Aberforth took a step backwards, visibly shocked, but he recovered quickly and motioned them inside. 

"Of course, you're from my brother. Now what can I do for you?" he asked once the other three members of the Order were inside and he peered at Hermione with curiosity.

Hermione looked to Remus and Sturgis, but neither seemed inclined to insert themselves in the conversation so she said, "We were hoping you knew why we were here. Albus just sent us to see you."

"Now why would he do that?" the old man mumbled, rubbing his chin through the thick grey beard. 

"Maybe there was something you needed to tell him that couldn't be said over floo?" Hermione asked, and he contemplated that idea but dismissed it with a shake of his head. "Maybe something you saw or overheard here?"

His eyes brightened and he exclaimed, "Yes, yes, that was it! I remember now!"

Aberforth waved them over to a table and they sat, Remus and Hermione on the opposite side, while Sturgis remained standing, his arms crossed, looking vaguely impatient with Dumbledore's seemingly less competent brother.

"It was Thursday I believe, and there were three of them, all in hoods so I didn't see what they looked like, but judging from the voices it was two men and a woman. I only heard bits and pieces, but I did hear a few interesting things. One of the men said things were happening much faster than originally planned, and France was first."

"Death Eaters attacked France last night. What else?"

"This was what really bothered me: I heard the woman say, 'The school will fall, and he will personally kill the old fool.'"

Hermione looked from Aberforth to Remus, his face furrowed as he glanced at her. 

"Does that mean they'll attack Hogwarts first?"

Hermione shook her head and answered, "I don't know."

"We should get back to Dumbledore and tell him," Sturgis said and Remus nodded his agreement. 

As they stood and approached the door, Hermione turned to Aberforth and handed him a vial of the potion, saying, "Take this potion if Death Eaters show up. It will protect you against three of the killing curse."

He thanked her and opened the door for them, but as they started to leave, Remus stopped dead in the doorway. 

"What is it?" Sturgis asked him from behind. "What's wrong?"

"It's cold," Lupin muttered, and a cold breeze blew in to prove his point.

"Oh no," Hermione whispered.

Remus turned and fixed her with a dark look. "Dementors."

* * *

Harry sat in one of the front most cars, his foot tapping impatiently as he watched the speeding landscape through the window. There were only five students with him, all boys looking to be in their fifth or sixth year, and they talked quietly of quidditch and girls and school, not about going home or Voldemort. Harry frowned.

He started to wish for those days as a student back, when he had little else to worry about than Cho Chang or Draco or the next quidditch match, or even double Potions with the Slytherins, when he remembered that even then he still had to worry about Voldemort. He returned to staring out the window.

It was still a few hours before the train would arrive in London, so Harry settled back for a nap. He dozed off quickly, able to ignore the talking in the car. It felt like he had just closed his eyes when he was suddenly in a dim room, and he was angry, so angry he couldn't do anything but grip the wand tighter in his skeletal fingers and point it at a writhing figure on the floor. As he cast _crucio_ again and again, moving closer to the victim all the while, he finally recognized the voice screaming out --

With an earsplitting howl, Harry fell off the bench and to his knees, both hands clutching his forehead and the throbbing scar. 

"Go get McGonagall!" one of the boys yelled at another, who quickly disappeared from the car. The first boy crouched down and looked at Harry. "Are you alright, Mr. Potter? Is there something I can do?"

The pain lessened and Harry fell back against the seat, still with a hand over the scar, the other one supporting him. His breath finally slowed and he tried to smile at the four students who were eyeing him warily.

"I'll be fine, thank you."

"Is it your scar, sir?" another asked, and Harry nodded. "My mum told me you know when You-Know-Who is mad."

"Your mum's right. It seems Voldemort is not very happy at the moment."

Minerva burst into the compartment, followed by the boy sent after her. 

"Harry, are you alright?" the witch asked, unable to keep all the worry out of her voice.

"No, I'm fine," he answered as he slowly stood, using the seat for leverage. "Though I could use a bit of a walk. Maybe some pumpkin juice."

He jerked his head at the door and she nodded, preceding him out into the hallway and Harry slid the door shut. McGonagall watched him expectantly as he continued to rub the searing lightning bolt on his forehead.

"I was asleep, then I was inside Voldemort and Draco was there, and I was casting _crucio_ on him over and over, and I was really angry, but not because of Draco -- because of something else, something not going right."

"Was it real or a vision?" McGonagall asked.

"I don't know. But I know that he really is angry at something."

"If that's the case, perhaps it's good news for us."

"Perhaps," he repeated, though he wasn't sure at all. "You'll tell Albus?"

"First thing when we return to Hogwarts," the witch promised.

McGonagall returned to her car, but Harry instead chose to walk the corridor, in part looking for the food cart, but also to relieve his anxiety. He didn't know if what he saw was real or not, if Voldemort was toying with him because of his betrayal, which held strong possibility, but at the same time he knew that Draco _would_ die. Voldemort had made that abundantly clear, but Draco, without his potion to keep up his strength, wouldn't survive for much longer as it were. He pushed back the urge to slam his fist into the wall.

He found the sweet, old witch from the food cart and purchased a handful of chocolate frogs and some pumpkin juice, and returned to his car up at the front of the train. He managed a smile at the students when he entered the car and offered each of them a chocolate frog to enthusiastic thanks.

He settled back onto the seat and watched out the window, his thoughts stormy. No matter how much he considered it, he could not come up with a plausible way to get to Draco. No doubt Voldemort was keeping him close, but he didn't even know where the Dark Lord was hiding at present. First, he would have to track down Voldemort, then kill him and not be killed in return by the Death Eaters, and after that, pray he found Draco alive. He didn't like his chances of either of them surviving such a plan.

After an extended silence on his part, the boys -- Ravenclaws, he was told -- drew him into a conversation about professional quidditch as well as Hogwarts, since Harry was still considered the best seeker in recent history, and soon the train was rolling into Kings Cross. He instructed the students to remain in the car for the moment and he sought out Minerva. 

He found her at the very front of the train as she tapped her wand against a metal plate on the wall and spoke, her voice reverberating throughout the cars. 

"Attention students. As you can see we have arrived at the station. Please exit the train in a calm and orderly fashion. Remember, you will receive notice on when to return to the school." She paused and her eyes met Harry's. "And please, be careful."

Pulling her wand away from the plate, she said quietly, "Albus told me about Draco Malfoy." 

Harry swallowed and he was given time to wonder just what the Headmaster had said as students began filing out of the cars and onto the train platform.

"How much did he tell you?" he asked. 

"A little. That he was the spy working with you and Voldemort found him out. All this time I thought he had followed his father's footsteps but he was working for us."

Harry nodded silently and Minerva waved at a knot of Gryffindors that passed.

"It seems I misjudged Mister Malfoy after all," she said, a sad note entering her voice.

"I think we all did," Harry answered, suddenly feeling forlorn. "All of us but Dumbledore."

McGonagall looked at him with shrewd eyes and said, "I think Albus has the gift of seeing each of us as we really are and knowing how much we are truly capable of, perhaps even more so than we are ourselves."

He thought about how Dumbledore had forgiven him for nearly betraying everything they had been working towards. How unsurprised he was that Draco had been the literal wrench in the works that Harry had put into motion in order to save Draco's own life.

"I think you're right," he said, allowing a sad smile. "Well, I need to move on to the Ministry. Fudge will certainly having conniptions by now."

"Of course. Be careful, Harry," Minerva pleaded, knowing full well that he could be facing Voldemort at any time, and she hugged him swiftly and surely. 

Harry left the train and moved to the four aurors that were watching the parents and students reunite. 

"I'm off to see Fudge, you can handle this lot, right?"

Andrew McKay waved him off and said, "Of course, we'll be fine. You'd best go on, before Fudge sends a search party."

"See you back at the office."

As he concentrated and fixed the Atrium at the Ministry in his head, he heard a scream, and a bolt of green light whizzed past him, the air crackling in its wake, but Harry was already spinning away from the station and when the world righted itself once more, he was standing in the large hall full of witches and wizards returning from lunch.

"Harry? Wha's go on?" called the unmistakable voice of his oldest friend with his mouth stuffed with food and Harry whirled to see Ron with a sandwich in hand.

"Ron! Quick, Kings Cross is under attack!"

* * *

A/N:

And so it begins! Chapters 35 and 36 will be posted within short order of each other, I would say 2-3 weeks.

Thanks greatly for all the birthday wishes! I did have a party, and it was all going great until some stupid little fuck from work drank too much and passed out and cracked his head and we had to call the ambulance and everyone but one brave soul (and my brother who slept through the ordeal and my best friend who'd left about 30 min prior) took off and left just me and this one guy to answer to the EMS and fire dept. (Yes, there was a bit of an illegal substance being puffed, and those wusses ran!) But nothing came of it after all. The kid was alright and back to work the next day. So, my 26th year has started out in quite an exciting fashion. 

As always, please review … to paraphrase my favorite American Idol host, if you read and don't review, it's just like stealing. (And yes, that was a bit of sarcasm when I use the word favorite, however let's just say, I wouldn't kick him out of bed. Until after, that is. But yes, I am an addict of American Idol, I admit it.) 

In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy PoA … I'm certain I will! 


	35. Chapter Thirty Five

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter, though I wish I did. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

Chapter Thirty Five

Dementors in Hogsmeade could mean only one thing: Voldemort had finally convinced them to switch loyalties and Azkaban prison was now lying empty of not just guards, but prisoners as well, since the Ministry had yet to devise a back-up system should such a thing occur.

Hermione eased around the doorway and looked up and down the street as Remus Lupin stepped back. She saw nothing, but the cold was unmistakable. Somewhere nearby, there were many dementors. She came back inside and closed the door quietly. 

"Can you talk to Dumbledore?" she asked Aberforth.

"I can try the floo," he answered and moved to a door behind the bar, motioning for everyone to follow.

The office was dingy and such a layer of dust coated everything so that it looked almost like snow. Hermione tried not to let her robes touch anything for fear of the sneezing attacks that would likely result from disturbing the dust. 

Aberforth, impervious to the dust he raised on the mantle as he groped for the pot of floo powder, knelt on the floor and tossed a pinch into the roaring fire. Once the flames sparkled green, he stuck his head in and called, "Albus? Albus, where are you?"

The witch and wizards standing in the office could hear no reply, though they listened with strained ears. 

"Albus, this is no time for foolery," Aberforth said impatiently. After a moment he pulled his head back and said, "I'm not sure he's there."

Hermione scowled, thinking for a moment. "Can you leave him a note if I were to --"

He shook his head and answered, "The wards at Hogwarts prevent anyone from going further through the floo network."

"We can't trust an owl to make it there without being intercepted," Remus said and Hermione absently nodded her head.

"What about the Ministry?" Sturgis asked. "Can't Arthur do something?"

"Of course!" Hermione said, irritated that she hadn't thought of him first. "May I?" she asked Aberforth, and upon his approval took a pinch of floo powder and tossed it in the fire. Once it flared green, she stuck in her head and called, "Ministry of Magic! Arthur Weasley's office!"

She closed her eyes to the spinning and when she opened them again, she stared into the office of Arthur Weasley, Deputy Minister of Magic, and the Deputy Minister sat behind his desk, toying with a set of electrical plugs while staring at a parchment before him.

"Arthur!"

He dropped the plugs in surprise and stared at the floating head of Hermione Granger in his fireplace. 

"Hermione! Is everything alright?"

"No, we've got trouble. There are dementors in Hogsmeade."

"Dementors?" he asked incredulously. "But what -- what happened to Azkaban? And why are you in Hogsmeade?"

"I don't know what happened there, but you might want to send someone out to check. We were escorting the students to the train and Albus asked us to stop by to talk to Aberforth before returning to the castle. At the moment we're trapped here unless we decide to take on all of the dementors."

Arthur came around his desk and crouched down by the fire. "How many are there?"

"We're not sure, but judging by how cold it just got, quite a few. How many were guarding Azkaban?"

"Although I don't know for sure, I believe around sixty to seventy. Is there any way you can get back to Hogwarts?"

"I don't know," she answered slowly. "Certainly not the normal path, but perhaps one of the secret passages. But what about the residents here? We can't just leave them with all those Dementors running loose."

"You're right, of course. Evacuate everyone you can to Hogwarts then. Have you informed Dumbledore yet?"

"No, we couldn't get him on the floo."

Hermione watched as a purple paper airplane -- an interdepartmental memo -- flew through the office door and Arthur it out of the air and he blanched suddenly upon reading it. 

"What is it?"

"Kings Cross -- is being attacked! By Death Eaters!"

"We'll be there in --"

"No," Arthur interrupted. "We'll handle it, you get to Dumbledore and tell him everything."

Arthur quickly stood and swept from the office and Hermione pulled herself out of the fireplace, her knees aching from kneeling on the stone floor.

"I trust you all caught the gist of that," she said, looking from face to shocked face. "I guess we'd better work on our escape plan."

* * *

Ron's mouth full of sandwich fell open and he stared at Harry with wide eyes. 

"Ron!"

His attention snapped back into place and he hurriedly swallowed his mouthful and asked, "Kings Cross? Under attack?"

"Yes!" Harry yelled, oblivious to the Ministry workers stopping to stare. "We've got to go now!"

"Wait a sec, we can't just take off without telling anyone," Ron retorted and he trotted over to the security stand where Eric Munch sat with his head in his hands. "Oi, Eric, a memo and a quill, please."

The watchwizard eyed him curiously but complied, both he and Harry watching as Ron scribbled on the violet paper. When he was finished, he folded it up expertly, tapped his wand on it and said, "Arthur Weasley, on the double."

He turned back to Harry. "Dad'll know what to do."

"But we've got to go now!" Harry protested. "He'll send back up, but that could take too long. Ron, we've got to protect the students!"

Ron relented and as they hurried through the Atrium towards the outgoing floos, a voice from the golden gates leading down into the Ministry held them back, "Hey boys, where you headed? Off to a long lunch?"

Harry turned to see Nymphadora Tonks grinning at them as she approached, this time her hair short and black with pink tips. 

"The students are being attacked at Kings Cross," Harry said and was about to ask for her help but she beat him to it.

"Then what are we standing here for?" she demanded and, with a hand on each of their backs, shoved them towards the fireplace. "Let's get moving!"

"Wait," Harry said, fumbling in his robes, "take the potion first."

Ron and Tonks both found their vials and gulped the contents. Harry pulled out his wand and nodded at them.

"See you there."

He stepped into the fireplace and announced, "Platform nine and three-quarters!"

He arrived in a fireplace on the other side of nine and three-quarters, the Hogwarts Express shielding them from view of the fighting he could hear from the across the train. It seemed a number of students and parents had retreated to the train as he could see scared faces in the windows. The Dark Mark hung black and sinister in the empty air above everything.

Ron and Tonks quickly followed him through and they advanced cautiously to the front of the silent train. Hexes flew past them, bolts of light missing their targets or glancing off protective spells and zooming off into nothing. Harry peeked around and saw chaos. A haze filled the air, punctuated by shafts of light as spells erupted from wands, and many bodies, both adults and children, lay on the ground, too many for him to count.

He spotted a knot of five Death Eaters about twenty feet away, busy firing curses at the students and parents. When he motioned towards the group, Ron and Tonks nodded, their wand hands ready and itching for action. Harry nodded once and they burst around the train, each with a hex on his or her lips.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Harry yelled and three wands flew up in the air as Ron and Tonks both cried, "Stupefy!"

Two of the Death Eaters dropped immediately and the remaining three whirled, clearly surprised at the attack from behind, and one scrambled for a wand on the ground.

"It's Potter!" the same Death Eater yelled.

"Stun him only!" another answered. "The Dark Lord wants him alive, but kill the others!"

The third faced Ron and a green jet shot forth, but Ron dropped to the ground and countered with _petrificus totalis_ and the Death Eater dropped. Harry and Tonks took out the other two and bound all five tightly with rope. 

"Don't go anywhere," Ron muttered as he picked up the five wands and stuffed them in a pocket in his robes. 

Harry spotted Yori Saito, one of the aurors from the train, deflecting some curse from a Death Eater but he cast _avada kedavra_ before she had a chance to recover and she fell to the platform. The killing curse flew from Harry's lips without effort and the offending Death Eater also dropped. Harry knelt beside Yori and she blinked up at him, having taken the potion as soon as fighting broke out. 

"It really does work," she whispered as he helped her up. 

"Be careful," he advised her. "You can only take one more and still fight. After the third, you'll be no help --"

"Move!" she yelled, pushing Harry hard and a hex grazed his shoulder as she raised her wand. "Stupefy!"

Another Death Eater hit the ground and since the area around them was clear, Harry took a quick moment to take stock of the situation. McGonagall stood at the far end of the platform, her black hair flying out of its customary bun as she deflected a curse and countered with one of her own, looking none the worse for wear. Britt Oudekirk and Dwaine Garvey stood between some terrified first-years and four Death Eaters, locked in fierce battle. A curse hit Dwaine and he fell hard just as Tonks took out one of the four and Yori ran over to join them.

He didn't see Flitwick or Emmeline Vance, but some of the parents were fighting, as well as some of the braver older students, five of which had cornered a pair of Death Eaters and disarmed them. Harry rushed over to them.

"_Incarcerous_." Rope wound its way around the two Death Eaters and Harry turned to the students. "Good work. I want you lot to secure the train."

"But we can fight!" one of them argued, a Gryffindor of course, and Harry couldn't help but remember how Ginny, Neville and Luna had argued with him in fifth year….

"No, my first responsibility is to keep you safe, but you can protect the other students on the train." A few stared back at him, sullen looks on their faces as if they would try to argue, but they complied at last when he barked, "GO!"

The students ran towards the train and Harry turned around to see a Death Eater charging towards Ron, but Harry shot out a spell which tripped him up and Ron stupefied him. Cords shot out of Ron's wand and wound around the unconscious form.

Suddenly, the twenty-odd remaining Death Eaters grimaced and apparated away, and Harry noticed the Dark Mark burning on the left arm of a captured Death Eater. 

"What's going on?" Ron asked breathlessly as he ran over to Harry. "They're just taking off!"

"Look," he said, motioning to the Dark Mark. "He's summoning them back."

A sharp pain in his scar made him wince and Ron became worried. "What?"

Harry shook his head, a hand massaging the burning lightning bolt on his forehead, and waited for the pain to pass before answering, "I thought before he was mad, but now … he's fucking furious."

"What before? What happened?"

Harry explained the dream on the train and Ron looked at him thoughtfully. "Maybe it's a good thing, him being angry."

"Yeah, McGonagall said that too, but I'm not so sure." 

Andrew McKay limped over to them, bleeding from a gash on his left thigh, and he said, "Glad you came back, Harry, and with company, no less." He turned to Nymphadora who had just finished checking the ropes on the captured Death Eaters. "Tonks, go make sure there's no one else on the train."

The pink and black haired witch nodded and boarded the Hogwarts Express. 

"So where did they go?" McKay asked of no one in particular, when suddenly a thought struck Harry.

"Why don't we find out?" he asked, and to their surprise, Harry went to the nearest unconscious Death Eater and grabbed the left arm.

His fingers brushed the Dark Mark and an image appeared, a meadow he didn't recognise. He turned back to Ron and shook his head. 

"I don't know, they're probably regrouping, which means we need to get everyone out of here before they decide to come back."

As Harry spoke, witches and wizards in dark blue robes streamed onto the platform, past the scorched ticket booth and empty guard chair, both occupants having been the first victims of the Death Eaters' attack. Right behind the Ministry Police were the Healers from St. Mungo's in their lime green robes. 

McGonagall joined them, a black bruise forming on her forehead and spots of blood on her robes. The distraught look upon her face seemed to reflect what Harry and the other aurors had feared, and her words only confirmed it.

"Nine students were killed," she said, her voice cracking as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. "Luckily the rest either were still on the train or made it back to safety."

"Shit," Ron breathed.

"Let me guess, none from Slytherin," growled Harry.

She nodded. "In fact, the ones with suspected ties to Death Eaters disappeared, before or during the attack, I'm not sure."

"How many parents were killed?" asked McKay.

"I don't know, but at least that many." 

"What a fucking disaster," McKay said, shaking his head. "If only Fudge had agreed to send more. I tried to argue but…."

"We all know how the Minister likes to do things," Harry said, anger burning in the brilliant green eyes. "But at least they didn't attack the train en route. It would've been like shooting fish in a barrel."

A few heads nodded and Tonks emerged from the train with Flitwick trailing behind. The tiny wizard looked shaken but had no visible wounds.

"Train's all right, just some scared kids and a few scared mums and dads, too."

"Where's Emmeline?" McGonagall asked Flitwick, since the other member of the Order had last been assisting him with the invisibility charms before the attack.

He appeared near tears as he said, "She's -- she's gone. She heard the commotion outside and went to look and a wayward killing curse caught her before she could take the potion."

McGonagall gasped and clutched at her chest, this time unable to stop the tears that sprang to her eyes and streamed down her cheeks as she whispered, "Emmeline!"

While Flitwick attempted to console her, Harry and Ron shared a dark look. 

"We need to get back to the Ministry and talk to your dad quick. I have a feeling this could have been just a diversionary tactic."

Ron's eyebrows leapt up. "Then we'd better go."

McKay said, "You three go on. We can manage here without you."

With three _cracks_, the three apparated to the Ministry and immediately raced through the atrium, past Eric the watchwizard and to the lifts and Harry jabbed the up arrow repeatedly and impatiently. Finally an elevator arrived and they piled into it, Tonks waving away a wizard who tried to follow them in as Ron mashed the button for the first floor and the administrative offices and he muttered something under his breath to the panel.

"What was that, Ron?" asked Tonks.

"Just a little password Dad told me; it takes you straight to the floor you want without stopping for anyone else."

Within moments, the car stopped and they piled out before they could hear the announcement for the floor. They were in a corridor leading right and left, and Ron started towards the right.

"This way," he said, unnecessarily since the other two also knew where Arthur Weasley's office sat, but they followed him regardless through the winding corridors before finally reaching a heavy, walnut door with a gold plate reading _Deputy Minister of Magic, Arthur Weasley_.

Ron opened the door, said hi to Arthur's personal assistant, a dour old wizard by the name of Philip, then continued on to the interior office, ignoring Philip's directives to stop. Bursting into the office, Ron stopped dead, causing Harry to run into his back and Tonks to run into Harry and she nearly knocked over all three of them. Harry peered over to see why Ron had stopped and his heart sank. The office was empty.

"If you would have stopped to listen, I could have told you that Mister Weasley is now with the Minister, and I would suggest not disturbing them."

"We'll see about that," Ron said.

Immediately they backtracked out of the office and through the corridors, past the lifts and through more hallways until they arrived at Fudge's office. 

"Let me handle this," Harry said.

He opened the door to the office and a brilliant smile flashed across his face when he saw the witch at the desk.

"Lydia! So nice to see you again, and so soon!"

Her face blushed crimson right up to her short blonde hair and she beamed back at him. "Hello, Mister Potter."

"I heard that Arthur Weasley is in there with the Minister, is that correct?"

She nodded and answered, "Yes, but I don't think it's a good time to disturb them --"

"Oh, it'll be alright, I've got information that they both need."

"Well…" she trailed off, looking from Harry to Ron to Tonks, who had just knocked over a potted plant with the hem of her robes and the effortlessly clumsy witch scrambled to right it and return the spilt dirt to the pot. "If you think they need the information…."

"Lydia, I'll take full responsibility if he gets angry."

She acquiesced and Harry knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for a response. Cornelius Fudge, at his desk, and Arthur, sitting across from the Minister, looked up in surprise at Harry's sudden intrusion. 

"Harry, if you will excuse me, I'm talking to the Deputy Minister at the moment," Fudge said at the same time as Arthur was asking, "What happened at Kings Cross?"

Harry largely ignored Fudge while he directed his attention to Arthur, saying, "We captured some of the Death Eaters but the rest fled once they received summons from Voldemort. They could be regrouping now."

"If that's the case, there's a good chance it's in Hogsmeade."

"Hogsmeade!" Ron cried. "But I thought he was supposed to attack the Ministry first, not Hogwarts!"

"That's what we thought too," his father answered, running a hand over his head. 

"But why do you think he's there?" Harry asked, desperate to know the full scope of things.

"Because I spoke with Hermione by floo about twenty minutes ago and she was trapped there by dementors, the ones that had been guarding Azkaban."

Harry cursed and, looking at Fudge, Tonks asked, "What about the prisoners?"

Fudge declined to answer so Arthur said, "A few were still there, those not affiliated with Voldemort or his supporters, since they had no way off the island."

"Great," Ron muttered, "more to fight off."

"So what's being done about Hogsmeade?" persisted Harry as he pushed his glasses back up his nose. "Did you send someone?"

Arthur shook his head. "I instructed her to clear out everyone she could and report back to Dumbledore to tell him everything."

"You can't leave her to fight off those dementors alone! There had to be at least fifty dementors at Azkaban, not to mention how many are outside of Ministry control!"

"There are no dementors outside of --" Fudge began, but Harry cut him off with a glare.

"You know that's not the truth," he said coldly and the blood drained from the Minister's face. Harry turned back to Arthur. 

"She has Remus and Sturgis with her."

"Look, I think you could be right about them regrouping in Hogsmeade for an attack on Hogwarts, I think it makes sense. Voldemort's really angry about something, and he pulled those Death Eaters out of Kings Cross even though we were still outnumbered, so he might be desperate enough to condense all his forces and stage one giant attack on Hogwarts. And if that's the case, then Hermione certainly can't handle all that, with or without Remus or Sturgis. She'll need our help."

Arthur held Harry's gaze for a long moment while the former decided what to do, until Fudge decided to assert himself as the Minister of Magic. He rose from his chair and placed his hands on his desk, a stern look upon his face as he turned to Harry. 

"I will send someone to Hogsmeade immediately, but you are to remain here, Harry, as Dumbledore and I discussed previously. He does not need your assistance in protecting Hogwarts, as you well know."

Ron sucked in a breath as he recognized the look of pure fury on Harry's face. He'd been on the receiving end of that face before and it wasn't pleasant. 

"My best friend is in danger, as Hogwarts could be, and I'm not about to risk either of them to save your sorry arse."

"Harry," Fudge began, "if you leave, I will be forced to bring disciplinary action against you --"

"Sod off, Fudge," Harry growled over his shoulder and he stalked through the open door and past an open-mouthed Lydia who had been standing just outside listening.

Ron looked at Fudge then back to his father, shrugged and followed Harry out the door with Tonks close behind and they caught up with him, pacing, at the lifts.

"Harry, Ron, wait!" Arthur's voice floated from down the corridor and a moment later he appeared, slightly out of breath. "I'm going with you."

* * *

A/N:

So I decided to go ahead and post ch 35 alone, since somehow I managed to bang this chapter out over the last two days. (Maybe inspiration after seeing _Prisoner of Azkaban_?) I'm not sure how long it will be until ch 36 is ready, and I don't really want to hazard a guess, so bear with me and I'll try to get it out ASAP. And yeah, it's a semi-cliffhanger, but I think I've been going to easy on you guys lately.

Leyna, thanks for pointing out the typo; I fixed it immediately since I'm compulsive like that. You're right about missing stuff. I went back and re-read a few chapters to make sure I wasn't screwing with my plot and found a handful of typos that I had missed before!

Errie, you are so right about Lupin's moustache … completely horrible, should've been shaved off! And happy birthday to you as well.

So here's a reason to review … list your favorite scene from PoA. Mine: tie between Snape the Boggart, the Shrieking Shack, and the Time Turner. And what did you think of Michael Gambon as Dumbledore? Honestly, I absolutely loved him. He seemed more the Albus from the books, all twinkly and meddling. 


	36. Chapter Thirty Six

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter blah blah blah. I've said this since Ch 1, so if you STILL don't get the idea, then something's wrong with you. 

Chapter Thirty Six

Hermione felt the icy fingers of the dementor behind her, the happiness being sucked from her very being, as she raced to where Sturgis Podmore lay on the ground unconscious. Her foot caught on a wayward stone and she went flying, her jeans ripping at the knee under her robes and her wand clattered to the ground a few feet away, all the while the dementor kept coming behind her. She scrambled for her wand, ignoring the pain from her palms where the stone scraped against them and the blood trailing down her leg, but as she reached the slender piece of wood, she heard a voice behind her bellow, 

"_Expecto Patronum_!" 

She felt the stag rush by rather than see it, knew before turning who would be standing behind her. 

"Harry!" she cried, never in her life happier to see Harry Potter standing before her, his black hair sticking out at all angles and green eyes flaring, wand hand raised.

"Alright there, 'Mione?"

As she stood and brushed herself off, Remus Lupin came loping up from a side street. "Hermione, are you alright?" He stopped and stared at Harry as if in a daze. "Harry? When did you get here?"

"Few minutes ago. Ron and Arthur are here as well. And Tonks too. I think we cleared out the dementors along the side streets."

"Nymphadora!" Remus exclaimed. "What's she -- I thought all of you were staying at the Ministry!"

"Yeah, well, I had a few choice words for that pompous bastard the Minister when he tried to keep me from coming here."

"But what about Kings Cross?" Hermione interjected. "Who's taking care of everything there?"

"Already taken care of. In fact, McGonagall and Flitwick should be returning to Hogwarts soon."

"What happened?"

"About thirty, thirty-five Death Eaters appeared just as I was apparating out to the Ministry, where I ran into Ron and Tonks, and they followed me back. We took out a lot, then the rest apparated away at Voldemort's summons."

"Were there casualties?" asked Remus hesitantly.

With a solemn nod of his head, Harry replied, "Nine students, at least that many adults. And Emmeline was killed."

Hermione cursed violently and Remus hung his head; Emmeline Vance had been part of the original Order and a great witch, as well as a friend.

She knelt beside Sturgis and tried to wake him. Slowly the wizard came to, though he was weak and couldn't stand at first. 

"Anyone have any chocolate?"

"No, but Honeyduke's is just around the corner," Harry said. "I suppose they wouldn't mind if I borrowed a bit."

Harry disappeared towards the sweets shop as Ron and Arthur walked up.

"'Mione," Ron said, giving her a quick hug. "Everything okay?"

She nodded. "You?"

"I'm having a great time, between Death Eaters and dementors."

"What happened at the office, Arthur?" Remus asked.

"Quite a bit, actually. Harry told Fudge off and left, then I bound and gagged Fudge and Obliviated his assistant and sent her off to other parts of the Ministry and, in the meantime, made myself Acting Minister."

Hermione and Ron both stared at him with wide eyes, horror and awe jumbling their faces.

"Dad! Mum's gonna kill you!"

Arthur shrugged and said, "It had to be done and I'm sure Molly would agree, given the circumstances. I ordered half of the aurors to Hogwarts and half of the Ministry Police here, leaving the rest to guard the Ministry."

A moment later, Harry reappeared, breathless and holding several slabs of chocolate and he broke off chunks for each of them, explaining, "I left a few galleons on the counter."

"Has everyone been evacuated?" Arthur asked. 

Remus nodded. "As far as we can tell. There were a few we found too late; the dementors got there before us. Everyone else we sent down the Honeydukes passage to Hogwarts, or they apparated away to safer parts." 

Two screams rended the air and the group raced as a whole towards the Shrieking Shack and rounded the corner to see three dementors circling above the collapsed figures of Tonks and another wizard. As they all raised their wands, a silver lion charged through and caught all of the dementors, sending them away shrieking. The lion lazily circled Tonks and the other wizard, as if guarding them from further attack before dissolving into nothing. 

Harry ran over to them, pulling the chocolate out of his robes and giving a piece to each, and admired Tonks with a grin. 

"Nice Patronus, Tonks!" 

"Thanks, but it wasn't mine," she said, putting a piece of chocolate in her mouth. 

"Then whose --" 

"Mine." 

Everyone turned to see Neville Longbottom standing in the lane, tall and lanky, his hands in pockets and a shy smile on his round face. 

"What are you doing here, Neville?" Hermione asked incredulously. 

"I heard about everything at the Ministry and I decided to come help," he answered as Harry reached out to shake his hand. "I heard you told Fudge to sod off." 

"Has word already got around?" 

Neville laughed. "I work in Restricted Plants, admittedly one of the dullest sections in the whole place, and I've already heard, of course! It's the Ministry, so everybody found out within minutes!" 

"What about Fudge?" Arthur asked nervously, for the first time seeming worried about his actions towards the Minister. 

"From what I heard, someone found him bound and gagged in his office, though no one's sure who did it," Neville said as he met Arthur's nervous gaze and responded with a smile. "And then, whoever found him, left him in the office without even untying him." 

"You're joking," Arthur whispered as Ron and Harry both laughed, but Neville was telling the truth. It seemed those loyal to Dumbledore weren't only ones fed up with Cornelius Fudge's tenure as Minister. 

Hermione glanced over as the nameless wizard Tonks had been protecting apparated away, though Tonks remained seated on the ground with Remus, who crouched beside her, one hand holding gently clasping her shoulder, and Hermione couldn't help but smile at the tenderness on his face. 

"Look, we need to get on to Hogwarts," she said, turning away from Tonks and Remus. "Arthur, did you get in contact with Dumbledore?" 

"No, actually, there was no answer in his office and I didn't want to risk an owl being intercepted by --" 

With a yelp of pain, Harry collapsed to the ground, his glasses clattering away from him on the street. Hermione immediately dropped to his side and her fingers searched for a pulse on his neck. 

"Harry, are you alright? Can you hear me?" 

Ron joined her on the ground and shook his shoulder roughly. "Harry, c'mon mate, wake up." 

"Careful, Ron," she said brusquely. "We don't know what's wrong." 

"He'll wake up in a minute, happens all the time." 

"He faints all the time?" Remus asked, pulling himself away from Tonks and standing beside Arthur. "Has he seen anyone about it?" 

Ron shrugged and Hermione scowled. "Probably not. If I'm not around to make sure he takes care of himself, this one here certainly won't." 

Before Ron could manage a retort, Harry groaned and opened his eyes, his hands flying to the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. 

"Harry? What is it?" queried Hermione gently as she and Ron helped him to sit up. "Did you see something?" 

He lowered his hands from his head and gave Hermione a long, piercing look. "He's got Albus." 

"How do you know it's not another --" 

"Another ruse? That's what I thought too, but after I saw Voldemort in the Great Hall, I heard Snape's voice in my head." 

"Severus? But what --" 

"He was screaming, from crucio. Voldemort has him, Hermione, both of them. Snape and Dumbledore." 

Hermione gasped and Ron started, "Well, what are we waiting --" 

Harry took a deep breath and said, "That's not all. I think Draco's still alive and he's there with them." 

Her mouth dropped open and Ron looked from face to face. 

"Malfoy? But he's a Death Eater!" 

"He was the spy, Ron! Honestly!" 

"The spy! Why didn't anyone tell me all of this?" 

"Ron, shut up!" growled Harry and he complied, meekly ducking his head. 

"Harry … I think this could be another trap," Hermione said, her voice rising when Harry started to protest. "Voldemort knows you're weak against playing the hero." 

"It's not playing the hero--" he started angrily. 

"He knows how to manipulate you, Harry!" 

Ron nodded and softly concurred. "She's right, mate." 

"Wait, why are we arguing?" Remus interrupted, looking at Hermione. "You have the Map! I saw you with it this morning!" 

"Of course! How could I forget?" 

She rummaged through the interior pockets of her robes until she found the parchment and thrust it into Harry's waiting grasp. 

He tapped his wand to the paper and muttered, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." 

The form of the castle spilled across the paper, but it remained conspicuously absent of names. It seemed the castle was empty. Harry tapped it again and repeated the words. Still nothing. He looked first to Hermione, who shrugged in puzzlement, then Remus, his face as pale as the parchment in Harry's hands. 

"You helped make this thing, so what's wrong? Why isn't it showing anything?" 

After a breath, Remus began, "We decided to make the Marauder's Map, well, Sirius and James did, really, after we discovered a book in the library --" 

"Does this story have a point?" asked Harry, a scowl creasing his handsome face. 

"Yes, Harry, it does. And here it is: one of the wards at Hogwarts monitors each person in the castle and we figured out from that book how to reflect that charm onto the Map so that it would display everyone's positions on the map that we drew of the castle." 

"So what does that have to do with the Map not working?" 

Exasperated, Hermione said, "Harry, if the Map isn't displaying names --" 

"The original ward on Hogwarts must be broken," Ron finished for her, looking as surprised at his response as everyone else standing there, but he quickly replaced the surprise with a look of smugness. "I'm not as worthless as you all think." 

"Of course not, Ron," Hermione reassured him out of habit, questions leaping out of her brain faster than she could corral them. "But if that ward is broken --" 

"Then more probably are too," Harry finished darkly. 

"But that also means the anti-apparition spell could be down," Arthur said. "One of us should attempt to apparate in." 

"I'll do it." 

"No, I will," Ron said, nodding at his father, then looking at Harry. "You can't just blindly apparate in when you're the key to winning this battle. I'll go." 

Shoulders drooped and he sighed, looking glumly at his best friend. "Be careful, then." 

"Where should I go?" 

Her mind racing through the options, Hermione quickly said, "Try the prefects' bathroom on the fifth floor. It should be empty of Death Eaters." 

Ron gave her a funny look but asked his father, "What happens if I try to apparate and the ward isn't down?" 

"Nothing," Arthur replied. "If the ward is still in place, you won't be able to arrive there. For a moment it will appear as if you have successfully apparated, but you would return almost instantaneously." 

He nodded and looked quickly at Harry and Hermione as he said, "Back in a sec, then." 

Ron screwed his eyes shut and popped out of vision, and everyone waited with baited breath for his reappearance. As two minutes passed and Ron had yet to return, worry descended upon the group. Arthur muttered to himself about letting his son go into an unknown danger, Hermione wrung her hands, Harry twirled his wand on his fingers, while Remus, Tonks, Neville and Sturgis stood off to the side speaking in hushed tones. 

"I'm going after him," Harry announced once it had been five minutes. "Something's happened." 

"Harry, if something's happened to Ron, then it would be an historic blunder for you to follow him," warned Hermione. 

Remus, who had since rejoined the group, added, "We can't win this fight without you." 

Harry glowered at both of them, and Arthur when he nodded his agreement. 

"I can't just sit on my hands while Voldemort has Albus, Draco and now possibly Ron --" 

A sharp _crack_ interrupted him, leaving Ron Weasley standing before them, panting, and relief flooded Arthur's features. 

"Ron! Thank Merlin!" 

"Can't-go-to-fifth-floor," Ron wheezed as he leaned over, putting his hands on his knees. 

"What happened?" cried Harry. 

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

He nodded and straightened. 

"You were right, 'Mione. The prefects bathroom was deserted, so I went out into the corridor --" 

"Ron!" 

"You stupid git!" 

Ignoring them, he continued, "And when I heard voices, I ducked into an empty room, someone's office by the looks of it. I hid there for a few minutes and talked to one of the portraits, some Spanish wizard or something. He said the castle had been overrun by Death Eaters not too long after all the students left. He thinks there are still several groups fighting inside the castle -- teachers and the Order -- and there's also a huge battle raging outside. Sounds like the aurors you sent over, Dad." 

"Then what?" Harry demanded. "Why were you out of breath?" 

Ron looked sheepish for a moment, but replied, "Well, the voices passed and I went outside and --" 

"Are you daft? Why didn't you just apparate back?" Hermione asked. 

"I was worried about Ginny! She was there this morning and the wizard said he thought there were some people holed up in the Room of Requirement and it was just up the stairs and down the corridor…. But as soon as I went around the corner, two Death Eaters saw me and started shooting hexes. I didn't have time to apparate so I had to lose them first." 

When Ron finished, he looked to Harry expectantly as he ran a hand over his rumpled black hair. 

"If there's a group in the Room of Requirement …" he began, then turned to Hermione. "Where could we go on the sixth floor then?" 

She thought for a moment before replying, "There's a large broom closet. It might fit all of us." She swiftly turned to count everyone. "Seven … I'm not sure." 

"What about Gryffindor tower?" Ron asked and several heads nodded. "Wouldn't the Fat Lady keep any of the Death Eaters out? I mean, she kept Sirius out in third year." 

"Probably," Hermione said slowly. "And it's on the same floor as the Room of Requirement. I think we should use a portkey, rather than all apparate separately." 

Remus seconded the idea. "It's been a long time since I've been in Gryffindor tower." 

"Here," Arthur said, thrusting out his hand with what suspiciously appeared to Harry and Hermione to be a car's spark plug. 

She took it from him and tapped it with her wand. "Portus." 

The spark plug trembled and flashed blue then settled back onto Hermione's palm. "Alright everyone." 

The others crowded around Hermione and placed a finger on the small metal cylinder. Moments later, seven invisible hooks snatched each of them, stomach first, and pulled them to the castle. 

…

Severus lay curled on his side, breath ragged, but he refused to cry out as Pettigrew kicked him in the back, instead closing his eyes and willing unconsciousness to take him away, though he knew it would only be a temporary reprieve. 

"That is enough, Wormtail," Voldemort rasped. 

The Dark Lord sat at the High Table, in Dumbledore's chair and watched with glee as Pettigrew stepped back from Snape. He turned his red eyes to the Headmaster, dried blood running from the corner of his mouth, the blue eyes without sparkle, tied to a chair that ensured a good view of the proceedings. With every blow, every hex, Dumbledore winced, and Severus couldn't bear to look at the old man and the pain echoed in his eyes. 

"I have plans for Severus. And Mister Malfoy, as well. We shall begin the entertainment once Potter and his friends arrive." 

Forcing his eyes into focus, Severus turned his head and saw Draco's motionless form on the floor near the Slytherin table. He was surprised that Malfoy was still alive at all, considering what he knew about his illness, but then, the Dark Lord no doubt held the remedy and was purposefully keeping him alive so that he could destroy Draco before Harry. Severus's mind, dulled by several bouts of _crucio_, slowly worked through the implications and he realized Voldemort had the same plans for him to be murdered in front of Hermione. He'd rather kill himself now and save both of them the pain, but he did not have that option available. But if Potter was on his way, that still left a glimmer of hope he didn't want to acknowledge. 

"How are you feeling, Dumbledore, now that I have taken your little castle? You realize, of course, that I will kill Potter before I kill you," Voldemort drawled, a wicked smile crossing the bone white face. "I'm certain you wouldn't want to miss that -- the final defeat of Harry Potter." 

Dumbledore watched with heavy heart as Severus tried to keep awake. It would be easier for the younger man if he would succumb to unconsciousness, to nothing. He sighed as his eyes trailed back up to the High Table and Voldemort sitting triumphant. With a swish of his wrist, the table disappeared and Voldemort stepped down to the floor and walked over to Dumbledore. 

"What are you feeling now, Albus? That, perhaps if you had given me a bit more attention, more respect when I was a student that this might never have happened?" he sneered, the red eyes flaring in anger. 

Albus looked at him with gentle eyes. "No, Tom. I do not believe any amount of respect or attention would save you from your destiny." 

"You shall see my destiny this very night!" Voldemort cried, bringing his wand up to point at the Headmaster. "But I think you should have a taste of pain before that happens. _Crucio_!" 

Albus didn't cry out, only writhed in his chair. Unable to watch his oldest friend suffer, Severus mustered his strength and rolled to his knees, oblivious to Pettigrew's swinging boot until it entered his field of vision and collided with the bottom of his jaw, then mercifully everything went black. 

…

Harry rested against a wall on the first floor as he surveyed the group of roughly fifteen witches and wizards before him. 

"Who's been hit so far with the killing curse?" 

About a dozen hands raised, including Hermione and Ron both. 

"Twice?" 

Nearly half of the hands dropped, leaving five in the air. 

"Who has not been hit at all?" 

Harry's and five other hands raised. 

"Alright. Those who have been hit twice, I want you in last. If you get hit again, you will most likely live --" he looked to Hermione for confirmation -- "but you'll be barely alive and certainly no help to us, so stay alert." 

"Are we going after V-Vol-him?" stuttered Ron. 

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione snapped. "It's just a name." 

"When the other group arrives." 

They waited, not entirely patiently, for Arthur's group, with people keeping watch in all directions. There had been a group of eight in the Room of Requirement, as the wizard in the painting had suggested to Ron, and Ron had nearly lost his head to a well-aimed curse from his sister when he poked his head in the door. After clearing up the fifth, sixth and seventh floors, they found two other small groups and split into two groups of approximately fifteen with the intention of meeting on the first floor to regroup before attempting to enter the Great Hall. 

Harry winced as a flash of pain seared his forehead and he rubbed the scar with his free hand. 

"What is it?" Hermione whispered. 

"Dunno." 

There was a sudden commotion from the corridor leading to the second and everyone turned with their wands pointed, ready to hex whomever showed their faces. 

"Tonks!" someone cried, and moments later, the witch tumbled into view. 

"I'm alright," she muttered as Sturgis rushed over to help her stand. "Just tripped over an uneven stone." 

Arthur and the rest of his group followed her seconds later. 

"Harry. Third and fourth floors are clear, and I found a few more hiding," he said, indicating Anne, the Muggle Studies teacher and Hestia Jones, a witch from the Order. 

"What's the plan, Potter?" Mad-Eye Moody asked as he joined them. 

"Voldemort's in the Great Hall, along with Dumbledore, Snape and Draco Malfoy. Presumably Peter Pettigrew is there since he rarely strays far from his master, but we're not sure how many others will be in there with them." 

"Harry," Hermione quickly said, "why don't you try to reach Severus?" 

He nodded. "I'll try." 

Relaxing, Harry shut his eyes and focused his thoughts on Snape, quickly finding him, though it took a moment of coaxing Severus awake before Harry gained access. 

_ He was lying on his back in the Great Hall facing Voldemort in Dumbledore's chair. Pettigrew stood loyally beside, along with two other faceless Death Eaters. He looked to Dumbledore, slumped in his chair, sure he saw a twinkle when their eyes met. Draco still lay motionless nearby. He rolled over on his side to face the doors, groaning and curling into a foetal position at the pain and to distract Voldemort from Harry. Another four Death Eaters at the doors, three more off to the side. _

Harry opened his eyes and blinked rapidly. 

"There are ten Death Eaters, plus Voldemort, four at the doors, three by the windows and three at the Head Table with Voldemort. We'll go in through the doors, blow them in and maybe take one or two with that, then clear out the rest." 

He paused and looked at each of them. 

"This is it. Wands ready, everyone. There could be more Death Eaters in the Entrance Hall." 

Wand up and head held high, Harry started towards the marble staircase. 

…

A/N:

Yeah, I know … I'm late. So review and tell me how horrid I am to leave you in suspense for a month just to leave you in suspense again! Originally I'd planned to have the final confrontation between Harry and Voldemort in this chapter, but well, they weren't quite ready, and neither was I ready to write it. A bit of advice to would-be writers out there … if you can avoid writing a final battle fic, do so! I certainly won't be writing another, if I can help it. 

As for Ch 37, we'll see. I'm moving in a week -- not one of those cross-town moves, but cross-state, so it'll take me a few weeks to get settled and ready to write again. But I PROMISE this will be finished well before Christmas, as there's only 4-5 chapters left. 

Thanks for the in-depth reviews that people have been leaving … it really is nice to get constructive criticism, although just lavishing praise will be gratefully accepted as well! 


	37. Chapter Thirty Seven

The sounds of fighting in the entrance hall -- bellowed curses and counter curses, explosions and crashes -- carried up the marble staircase and around the corner to the corridor where Harry led his makeshift army.

As he paused at the corner before the staircase, he heard the languid voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt cry, "_Expelliarmus_!"

"Sounds like at least some of the aurors have made it in," he whispered to Arthur. "I'm going to have a look."

He crouched and made his way slowly to the staircase, eased his head around, quickly ascertaining that the Death Eaters were outnumbered but not by much, then crawled back to the others.

"Ready?" he asked, seeing much nervousness in the witches and wizards before him, but also a determination in each of them to finish things. "Let's go."

As they raced down the stairs, Kingsley saw them and yelled, "Finally decided to join us, eh Potter?"

"Can't take care of things on your own, Shacklebolt?" Harry shouted back as he fired off a stunning spell.

Minutes later and the room was clear, all Death Eaters in custody or simply dead. Harry approached the doors to the Great Hall and shoved them open.

"Harry, wait!" Hermione cried, rushing over.

"He's not in there," he said quietly. "I can't feel him."

The Great Hall was indeed empty, tables and chairs flung about the room.

"I need to see Kingsley."

They left the Great Hall and found Shacklebolt on the front steps to the castle, overseeing the transport of the captured Death Eaters. Wizards and witches in robes of all colors canvassed the greens, holding Death Eaters, helping injured.

"Where did all these people come from?" Harry asked. "That's more than just the aurors from the Ministry."

"France."

"I thought no one made it out of France, that it was a bloodbath," Hermione said.

"That's what we thought too," answered Kingsley. "We lost communication with our contacts in France after the attack, and everything we heard suggested that no one survived, but I think we were being fed information from Death Eater supporters within the Ministry to keep us from knowing what happened."

"What did happen?"

"Death Eaters attacked the Magical Authority in Paris, and it started off as a massacre but Spain and Germany both sent some help, and a few from the States showed up as well, and they managed to push back the Death Eaters. Once everything was stabilised there, they apparated here, to the Ministry rather, and someone arranged a portkey here."

"He must've known," Harry said. "That's why he ran."

Kingsley agreed. "He knew he was outnumbered. We could have taken the castle without their help, but it would have taken all day. They just speeded up the process."

"So what now?" asked Hermione, looking from Kingsley to Harry. "Voldemort still has Albus."

"And Draco and Severus," Harry added darkly. "But we don't know where he is."

Hermione said, "We took out most of his Death Eaters by killing them or capturing them, so either he'll go into hiding or stage one final showdown."

"I'm betting on the showdown," Harry said. "In which case, I'm sure we'll be hearing from him shortly."

Harry and Hermione went back inside to assess the damage and to help transport the injured to the Great Hall, which Madame Pomfrey had converted into a makeshift hospital wing. Casualties were fairly light on the side of the Order, though a good number of the aurors sustained more serious injuries. Hours passed with no sign from Voldemort.

A large group stood outside the Great Hall, determining who would remain at Hogwarts until the wards could be restored, when Harry collapsed to his knees, his scar splitting open, unable to move or speak, until a chilly voice issued from him:

"_Your Headmaster is defeated and so are you. I am saving the pleasure of killing the traitors for you to witness, before I destroy you and the prophecy is complete!"_

Harry writhed against the pain, pushed with all his might against the presence in his mind, but it did no good.

"_You know where to find me. It will end where it began._"

As quickly as it started, it was over, leaving Harry gasping for breath and everyone standing about him in shock. Ron recovered first and helped Harry to stand.

"Albus?" Hermione whispered. "He couldn't have...."

"He showed me an image of Albus on the ground, but we won't know if he's lying until we go there ourselves."

"Where?" Ron asked.

"Godric's Hollow. I'm sure he finds perverse amusement in choosing that place."

"We just need to decide who stays and who goes," Hermione said, matter-of-factly. "The sooner we get there, the better the chances that Draco and Severus are still alive."

"I'm going!" Ron quickly volunteered, as did most of the bystanders.

"Wait a minute, there's something else," Hermione said then hurried up the stairs without anything further.

"Where's she going?" Ron asked and Harry answered with a shrug.

Minutes later, she returned holding a silver, ruby encrusted sword, the sword of Godric Gryffindor. "I thought you might need this," she said, thrusting it into Harry's open hands.

"I have two portkeys ready," announced Arthur. "We'll arrive just south of Godric's Hollow and proceed to the Potter house. I've already contacted the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes; I'm sure we'll need them to control the Muggles."

There were nearly thirty in all that crowded around the two portkeys, and Hermione felt her stomach clench with fear. This was it, one way or another. She closed her eyes as the portkey took hold, opening them only after they arrived and she stumbled, bumping into Remus Lupin who grabbed her arm and kept her steady.

"Alright there?"

"Yes, thanks. Harry, do you know where we're going?"

Harry nodded. "I've been here a few times."

Night had fallen and the village was asleep as the group moved quickly and quietly, following Harry. He stopped at the mouth of a street and inhaled sharply. At the end of the street, over an empty lot, hung the Dark Mark, illuminating the area.

"He knows we're here," Harry said quietly. "We should evacuate the --"

A sharp scream interrupted him, followed by a Muggle woman flying through the air and landing on the pavement before them. Hermione knew without checking that the woman was dead from the impact.

"Looks like he already did," Ron growled, his wand hand twitchy. "Let's go get him!"

"We have to be careful, Ron. He might have more hostages."

"That he'll kill if we don't do something!"

"Ron's right," Kingsley said. "We have to get in there. Harry?"

"I'm ready. Let's finish this."

A dog barked as they advanced down the street, moving through the pools of light from the street lamps, the green glow of the Dark Mark a macabre beacon at the end of the street. As they neared the empty lot, the remains of the house became visible. Two dozen Death Eaters stood together and parted slightly to reveal Voldemort standing behind them. Harry slowed, and everyone with him.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort rasped, stepping forward. "Have you come to meet your death?"

"No, I've come to bring yours. Where are they?"

Voldemort motioned with a spidery hand for the Death Eaters to move, and half did so, revealing three figures on the ground: Albus, Severus and Draco. None of them moved.

"I fear Mr Malfoy is slipping closer to death as we speak. It is too bad I cannot provide his cure after all."

"He didn't want the cure, he wanted you dead," Harry said slowly, bringing his wand up. Out of the corner of his mouth, he muttered, "Keep me a clear line. I'm going after him."

"Right," Hermione whispered and aimed at the Death Eater to the left of Voldemort. "Whenever you're ready."

"You still think you have a chance?" Voldemort laughed, a high-pitched sound that jarred the nerves. "You will die pleading for your life, just like your parents --"

"NOW!"

Curses erupted from the street, catching many of the Death Eaters by surprise, but others recovered quickly and sent back shots of their own. Hermione sidestepped a purple spell streaking towards her and picked off another Death Eater. One by one the Death Eaters fell, until all that remained was Voldemort.

Harry crossed the distance and stood before him, shoulders back and wand out and ready, while Voldemort watched with him predatory eyes.

"So you have defeated my Death Eaters. But you cannot defeat me, for I am stronger than any who has come before."

"No you're not," Harry said quietly, his green eyes trained on Voldemort as he pointed his wand at Harry.

Voldemort's wand slashed through the air, a green jet shooting through the air, and Harry easily deflected it.

"You'll have to do better than that," he taunted.

Hermione pulled herself away from the witches and wizards surrounding them and went to Remus, who knelt beside Dumbledore, feeling for a pulse under the white beard.

"He's still alive, but barely. Same with Malfoy."

"And Severus?"

Remus nodded. "Strong pulse, but unconscious. I'll take them to Madam Pomfrey."

Before she could respond, a flash of golden light and a series of gasps brought Hermione's attention back to the duel and she herself gasped when she saw the streams of golden light surrounding Harry and Voldemort, just as Harry had described, as was the ethereal sound of phoenix song and the beads of light between the wands.

Harry's wand quivered and shook but he managed to hold it steady, putting all his might and effort into pushing the beads towards Voldemort. They moved slowly at first, then steadily gained momentum until one touched the tip of Voldemort's wand and it began to emit the shadows of spells, and quickly the inside of the golden dome was filled with his most recent victims.

Harry kept his wand locked with Voldemort's, and the beam grew stronger, the beads larger, the wands shrieked from the vibrations, and the Dark Lord finally began to show fear. Harry held tight to the wand with his left hand and raised his right over his head, palm open and facing Voldemort. Hermione could see his lips move but could hear nothing over the shrieking of the wands, and suddenly Harry moved his right hand forward, as if throwing a ball, and the world exploded in a brilliant haze of gold, throwing everyone to the ground.

It took her a moment to orient herself, but Hermione quickly sat up and saw Harry still standing, this time over the prostrate figure of Voldemort. His hands shook subtly as he pulled Godric Gryffindor's sword from his robes and placed the tip on Voldemort's chest and for once, the red eyes showed a glimpse of fear.

"If you kill me, you will be no better than I," he hissed.

"So be it."

Harry shoved until the sword struck the soft earth, Voldemort's screams piercing the air until they finally subsided and he stopped struggling around the sword. His face body began to transform, from the ghostly white skeleton to an old man, jet black hair tinged with silver and green eyes staring unseeing to the sky: Tom Riddle.

Without removing the sword, Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at the body and spoke in a language no one understood. When he was finished, he pulled the sword from Riddle's body and it crumbled to ash.

"Harry? Are you alright?" Hermione asked, rushing to his side, Ron quick to follow.

"Yeah," he murmured, still staring at the ground where Riddle had laid.

"What spell was that?"

"Something Dumbledore made me learn in seventh year to prepare me for the final battle. It's an ancient Welsh spell, supposedly one of Merlin's. You'll have to ask him what it does."

"Hopefully I can. Remus took them back to Hogwarts."

"Draco?" he asked, the hope burning in his eyes making her heart ache. "He's alive?"

She hesitated. "He's not good."

"I have to go, I need to see him."

"Of course. We'll go together."

Ron touched her shoulder and whispered, "Go on, I'll help clean up here."

Hermione thanked him and transformed a portkey and within moments they stood just outside the Great Hall at Hogwarts.

"Harry! Hermione!" Remus called as he rushed over, quite surprised to see them. "Is it over?"

Harry ignored him and went to search for Draco among the sea of hospital beds, leaving Hermione to answer alone.

"Finished. Voldemort's dead, for good this time."

A strangled cry slipped from Remus's lips and tears came to his eyes, which he hurriedly wiped with his hand.

"Severus is alright, Poppy says. He's over there," he said, pointing to the windows. "Albus should be alright, she says, after a long recovery."

"And Draco?" Hermione asked softly, knowing the prognosis could not be good.

He shook his head. "She doesn't think he'll last the night. Go on and see Severus. We can talk later."

...

Poppy released Severus into Hermione's care, not having the time or patience to argue with him whether or not he needed to stay, but she trusted Hermione to keep him in check and so sent her off with a flagon of sleeping draught and instructions to make sure Severus actually took it, which he did, surprisingly enough.

Early the next morning, while Severus still slept, Hermione left the dungeons, looking for Harry. She stopped by the Great Hall but didn't see him. Poppy slept on a cot near her patients, and Hermione left to look through the castle. She went outside after a fruitless hour of searching and found him on the quidditch pitch, racing on his broom, so she went to the stands and watched him fly. After a while, he dropped back to the ground and joined her. She could see he had been crying. He sat quiet for several minutes and she didn't intrude.

"He died around four this morning."

Hermione grabbed his hand and entwined her fingers in his but still said nothing.

"He told me he loved me and for me not to blame myself, that he couldn't have lived with himself if I --" he broke off with a sob and he doubled up, dropping his head to his knees.

She pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him, and Harry clutched at her as sobs wracked his body. They sat like that for a long time until his cries abated and he sat up again, rubbing at his tears angrily, but he didn't push her away.

"I could have still gotten the countercurse! I should've made Voldemort talk before I killed him and threw away Draco's only chance!"

"He wouldn't have given it to you," she said softly. "He would have toyed with you and given you nothing."

"Maybe, but I could have tried."

He stared off into the blue sky and they sat in silence, until Ron's voice carried over the pitch.

"Harry! 'Mione! I've been looking for you for ages! Dumbledore's awake!"

"Thank Merlin!" Hermione breathed.

"He wants to see you, Harry."

"Shall we go?" Harry said, standing and offering his hand to her. "I suppose he wants to throw a big party tonight in celebration."

"Actually," Ron said as he neared the stands, a grin crossing his face, "I think he does."

Hermione laughed. "Why am I not surprised?"

...

A/N:

I sincerely hope this chapter was worth the wait. It's not quite the end, I still have a few loose ends to wrap up, so be patient, yet again. So please, let me know how it was, it took ages to write because nothing ever seemed right, and I'm still not 100 pleased, but near enough that I thought it best to put you out of your misery. Thank you so much, each and everyone of you!


	38. Chapter Thirty Eight

Chapter Thirty Eight

The last months of school passed quickly and with much celebrating. Minerva became acting Headmistress while Albus made a full recovery, though his powers were no longer what they once were. He formally retired on July first, and the Board of Governors voted overwhelmingly for Minerva's succession.

Hermione returned to London, to the new flat the Ministry assigned, but in actuality she was surprised she wasn't still at Hogwarts and that Minerva hadn't offered her the Transfiguration position -- given her competency as Minerva's best pupil -- and she was a bit disappointed as well. At the same time, she was glad to be away from the castle, though she did miss the company of Severus, Minerva and Anne, but mostly Severus.

Things had been left ambiguous upon her departure at the end of the term, and she was hesitant to contact him since arriving in London, for fear of what he would say -- or more specifically, how he would end things.

So she resumed work as an auror immediately and she found adjusting back to the bureaucratic life awkward. Many things had changed at the Ministry, for the better. Fudge received a forced retirement and Arthur Weasley took over as Minister of Magic, though quite a few did call for Harry Potter; he politely refused.

Hermione caught herself checking -- occasionally at first, then weekly and daily towards the end of August -- as to whether the position at Hogwarts had been filled. At last she allowed herself to admit she missed Hogwarts for more than just the company.

On Monday of the last week of August, she noticed that the DADA slot had been filled. She smiled and wondered what sucker they had found. Yet there was still no word on who would be teaching Transfiguration and she debated owling the Headmistress, had gone so far as to scratch out a greeting on a leaf of parchment before tearing it up. Surely Minerva would have already contacted her.

She stared blindly at some overdue paperwork on her desk.

"Oi, 'Mione!"

Ron's voice startled her from her reverie and she frowned at him as he trotted to her desk.

"Do you mind?" she asked, summoning her best glare. "I'm trying to finish some paperwork."

"The same paperwork you started an hour ago?" he teased, but his voice quickly grew serious. "You haven't heard yet, have you?"

"I don't know, what?"

"He's finally doing it, he's quitting!"

"Who is, Ron?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"Harry! This is his last week!"

"What are you talking about? He hasn't said a word of this to me."

Ron nodded. "Me too. Kingsley just told me I would be taking over some of his cases at the end of the week."

Hermione frowned. "Where is he? I think we ought to have a little chat."

"Out on a raid. He should be back this afternoon. I'm going to see what Dad knows about all of this."

Ron disappeared, leaving Hermione alone to sulk. Suddenly, she hated her job, hated Harry for bailing on her, and especially for doing so without telling her first.

...

Harry was at home, reading on his sofa, when she flooed him later. She stepped through the green flame into his living room after his invitation. Hermione took a moment to observe him. A quiet sadness had settled about him since Draco's death, and his green eyes had lost some sparkle.

"I'm sure I know why you're here," he said with a muted smile and he laid down his book.

"To find out why my best friend is leaving and I'm the last to know?"

Hermione's voice contained a quiet viciousness that he attributed to her time recently spent with Severus Snape.

"I wanted to tell you myself -- and Ron, too -- but I also wanted to do right by Kingsley. I told him just this morning, right before we left to check out that tip on Borgin & Burkes. I stopped by your desk when I got back, but you were out."

Hermione sighed and sat down on the other end of the sofa, saying, "I went home early. Told Kingsley I was feeling sick."

"Hermione Granger, who always let us have it for skipping class, pretended to be sick to skip out of work?" Harry asked with gleaming eyes.

She shrugged. "I think I might ask for a transfer to another section."

"Because of me?"

"Yes, because I couldn't live without the great Harry Potter," she said, her voice bleeding with sarcasm, and Harry grinned sheepishly. "No, because I'm tired of chasing Death Eaters now that Voldemort's dead. And I realised how much I really enjoyed teaching at Hogwarts."

Heavy silence descended as Harry watched his fidgeting hands and Hermione eyed him suspiciously.

"Harry?"

His mouth moved but it took a moment for the words to actually come out: "I'm leaving to teach at Hogwarts."

Her jaw dropped and her voice lowered. "What?"

"Professor McGonagall owled me last week asking if I would like to teach Defence Against Dark Arts this year and first I told her maybe, then I decided that I did. Same reasons as you." He paused and then added, "I'm sorry, 'Mione."

"Well, I was more expecting the Transfiguration position, since everyone knows DADA is cursed and you'll be gone after a year," she said with a smile. "Maybe they still haven't found anyone."

"From what Minerva told me, she has someone in mind, but Snape is butting heads with her on it."

"Any idea who?" she asked, her pulse quickening a bit.

Harry smirked. "I'm not sure I should really be discussing this with you."

She grinned back, knowing he would have told her straight out if they were considering someone else.

"Then can you tell me why the disagreement? It's not me, is it?"

"Well, not you in principle." A blush crept over his face and ears as he said, "She did offer me Head of Gryffindor."

"And?"

"I refused, because I knew I could never be the type of Head that Gryffindor needs, and Minerva knew it too. And so did Snape, which is exactly why he wanted me as Head of House. I told McGonagall that Gryffindor needs someone like her. Someone like you."

"What did she say?"

"That she felt the same but Snape still had reservations and she needed his cooperation."

"So I should give my notice as well?"

"Not until Minerva owls you, I should think. Because I suppose it's possible that they never agree and decide upon someone else. Or the governors do."

"Hmm," she said and grew pensive. "Perhaps I should go for a visit."

Harry shrugged. "I can't see how that would hurt. Besides, you might be able to--" he broke off and leered at her, eyebrows wagging -- "_persuade_ Snape of your capabilities."

"Are you suggesting that I use my feminine wiles to ensure my job offer?" she asked with a forced look of shock. "Harry Potter, what sort of woman do you take me for?"

"Well," he said slowly, raising his arms in preparation of defending himself, "you did sleep with the greasy git. That alone deserves an Order of Merlin."

Hermione swatted at him and said, "I already have an Order of Merlin, First Class, thank you. Besides, you slept with a Malfoy."

Before she could check them, the words left her mouth and she desperately wished she could take them back. Harry's shoulders drooped and he looked away.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "Harry, I didn't mean --"

"I know you didn't," he interrupted. "You didn't do anything. I still wake up sometimes thinking he's next to me, or that maybe he's in the loo, and it takes a few seconds to remember that he won't be coming back to bed."

Hermione grabbed his hand and entwined her fingers with his and kept quiet.

"How long will I miss him, do you think?" Harry asked wistfully. "Forever?"

"I think you'll always carry Draco with you," she said. "I know it sounds silly, like out of a children's book, but I do think so."

He gave a sad smile and squeezed her hand.

"I hope so," he said, then his face brightened. "Now, how are we going to get you back to Hogwarts?"

...

Severus paced the office of the new Headmistress, keeping his scowl focused the newly installed portrait of Albus Dumbledore that hung just to the side of the enormous desk, but the picture was dozing and oblivious that he was the object of scorn.

The room felt unnaturally empty since Albus packed up and removed his trinkets and belongings and Minerva had yet to redecorate. Fawkes, sitting idly on his perch, was the only physical reminder of Albus Dumbledore. She had insisted he take the phoenix with him, but Albus simply said the school needed him more than any old wizard did.

The new Headmistress sat primly at her desk, watching Severus move back and forth through the room, refusing to look at her.

"Severus, if I do not present a candidate to the governors by Wednesday, they may choose someone for me." She paused. "And it most likely will not be Hermione. Several of them have mentioned Neville Longbottom after his participation in the rescue of Hogsmeade, and given his close personal relationship with the daughter of the Minister."

He stopped, shifting his glare to her, and growled, "You know I would rather have the entire Weasley brood in the castle rather than Longbottom."

"She still hasn't owled?" Minerva asked gently.

He slipped into a wingback chair before the desk and sighed, "No."

"Then why don't you owl her instead?"

Severus gave her a long-suffering look and drawled, "I already have little pride as it is. No doubt she has returned to her previous life and occupation and has no need for my company."

"Don't be so sure of that. Harry seems to think she is depressed, and that it has much to do with you and Hogwarts."

He simply scowled at her.

"Severus, at some point you have to decide what you want, and quickly. I can't make all decisions based on your relationship with Hermione Granger."

His scowl deepened and he looked out the window for a beat before turning back to her.

"I will not withdraw my objections until I speak with her directly."

"Then go see her."

Severus snorted. "I will not."

"You'll wait for her to make the first move? How surprising," Minerva said, shaking her head. "And should things turn sour, what will happen then?"

His shoulders raised in an inelegant shrug.

Minerva sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Well, after what I let slip to Harry I'm sure we shall be hearing from Miss Granger shortly. He won't keep any of it to himself."

"I hope you're right about her." His voice carried a quietness that she rarely heard from him, and his eyes lost focus as he stared at a point past her, but the moment passed quickly and the usual sharp tones returned as he added, "I certainly don't want Longbottom back in this castle."

"And I do?" Minerva asked with a look over the top of her spectacles that was quite reminiscent of a recent Headmaster. "Fancy a drink? Albus left me several lovely bottles of sherry."

...

For the second time in a year, Hermione Granger stood before the heavy oak doors leading into Hogwarts and felt uncertain of herself. The first time, she was nervous about teaching; this time, she had to confront her own feelings.

She visited Minerva first and she found the new Headmistress in her office, busy readying for the new school year.

"I'm surprised you haven't come to see me sooner," Minerva said immediately as Hermione took a seat across from her. "I'm sure you've spoken to Harry."

"I have. I saw him last night. He told me you offered him Head of Gryffindor and he turned it down, said Gryffindor needed someone more like you. Or me."

"And he would be right," she sighed. "Hermione, dear, Severus has reservations about you returning to the castle, and he has lodged objections about you receiving such a permanent placement as Head of Gryffindor. But I am certain they are personal concerns, not professional. Perhaps you could talk to him and straighten things out, since I haven't had any luck."

Hermione hesitated, staring at her hands. "But what would I say?"

"Child, he has missed you, not that he has told anyone in so many words. But since you left at the end of the year, he's gone back to being to the bastard we all knew. You were good for him, everyone agrees."

"But --"

"But what? Just go see him. My deadline to fill positions is Wednesday and if he and I can't come to terms, the Board of Governors will have the option choose someone and I cannot guarantee it will be you."

Hermione left the office and slowly made her way down to the dungeons, her courage flagging with each progressive step. She had no idea what to say to him, even though she had anticipated such an encounter. It was reassuring to some degree that Minerva felt he missed her, but until Severus himself admitted it, she wouldn't place stock in the Headmistress's feelings.

She detoured through the castle to buy some time, stopping by her old rooms and office, even though they held few memories, until suddenly she stood in his office and before the door to his quarters.

Within moments of her knock, Severus pulled open the door with a great scowl that slipped off his face when he recognised her. He looked at her for a long moment, drinking in her appearance, before stepping back and letting her pass. He watched silently as she moved through the sitting room before settling on a chair beside the empty fireplace. He sat in the far corner of the sofa.

They sat in mutual silence, each waiting for the other to begin, and several minutes passed.

Finally Severus broke the quiet and asked, "How are things at the Ministry?"

With a small frown she answered, "You detest small talk, so why don't you simply ask me why I'm here?"

"I don't ask because I know why you are here: to find out why you haven't been offered Transfiguration yet. I'm sure Mr Potter has mentioned that you are being considered."

"He didn't quite say that."

He watched her for a moment with unguarded eyes, surprising Hermione with tenderness. Then he said, "I had hoped to avoid any unnecessary antagonism if you were Head of Gryffindor."

"I don't remember you having such a difficult time with Minerva," she answered.

"Minerva and I didn't share certain ... feelings."

"Meaning you didn't fuck her," Hermione threw in quickly, knowing it wasn't what he meant, but she felt a sudden desire to lash out at him for his silence since her departure.

He stared at her for a moment, a glimmer of anger crossing his face but it passed and he said, "I thought you and I shared more than that, but I could be mistaken."

"If we shared more than that, why haven't I heard from you?"

"I should ask you the same thing," he countered and she glanced away, to the empty fireplace.

After a moment, she spoke quietly, "I thought ... once I left, you wouldn't have any interest in me."

"Perhaps you weren't the only one to think that."

The sadness in his tone pulled her eyes back to him, and again Hermione was surprised to find him so easy to read, until it dawned on her that he was letting her. At long last, Severus was allowing her to see his true feelings.

"For a week or so, it was nice, being out of the castle. But then I was miserable. I hate working there, I hate the paperwork, the bureaucracy. I realised how much I liked teaching here, even though the students are little shits. I missed it." She paused. "But mostly I missed you."

He watched idly as she crossed the room to sit beside him, guided his face down to hers and pressed her lips to his. The chaste kiss burst with pent-up passion and she found herself quickly wrapped in his embrace. After several minutes, they pulled apart for air and she leaned back against the couch.

In the ensuing silence, Severus watched her, frowned as he felt something new, something he couldn't place immediately. He analysed it, prodded it before finally accepting it for what it was: he was content.

He tucked a stray curl behind her ear and traced his fingers along her jaw and pulled her back for another kiss.

"Do you think Minerva will let me stay with you?" Hermione asked when he released her again.

He smirked. "I think she will be thrilled that she has a competent replacement and let us do what we wish."

...

And Minerva was thrilled. Hermione threw herself into preparing for the new Transfiguration classes, so much so that she nearly missed the start of term feast. She hurried down to the Great Hall to find the new first years already sorted and Minerva in the middle of her speech. Hermione slipped into the empty chair between Severus and Harry, grinning at each of them in turn.

"As you already know, Professor Dumbledore retired after last year, and we will all greatly miss him. However, he will visit, as he has assured me he does not intend to miss a single quidditch match this season.

"Professor Granger has returned to teach Transfiguration and as the new Gryffindor Head of House --" the entirety of Gryffindor clamored at that and Hermione blushed -- "and replacing her in Defence Against the Dark Arts is Professor Harry --"

A deafening roar sounded throughout the Great Hall, drowning out Minerva's introduction of Harry, though of course he needed no introduction. Nearly all of the students were on their feet applauding him, even the Slytherins, though a few with known Death Eater ties stared sullenly at the table.

If Hermione had blushed at the small amount of recognition she received, Harry turned positively red at his and ducked his head. Slowly the whistles, shouts and applause died down and students resumed their seats as Minerva looked over the tables with pursed lips before continuing,

"Hopefully Professor Potter will not have to start each lesson with a standing ovation." She was answered with a wave of laughter that quickly quieted. "Sign ups for the quidditch pitch will begin next week, so team captains may speak with Madam Hooch about reserving their practice times. The N.E.W.T. and O.W.L. schedules will be available by Christmas."

"Is she going through the entire academic calendar?" Hermione whispered to Severus, who appeared quite bored. He shrugged.

"I'm starving! At least Dumbledore didn't prattle on like this," Harry muttered under his breath and on the other side of Hermione, Severus snickered.

Hermione herself fought to keep a straight face as she elbowed both of them.

"Ow!"

"What was that for?" Severus hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

"You're the Deputy Headmaster," she hissed back, "and should act as such."

This time Harry sniggered and Severus fixed him with a dark scowl just as Minerva finished up her speech.

"-- and you may enjoy the feast!"

Cheers went up as Minerva sat down and the plates on the tables filled with anything and everything delicious. Harry attacked the roast beef before him and passed it on to Hermione before starting in on the Yorkshire Pudding. Severus raised an eyebrow as she passed it on to him, then quirked his lips in a smile and she couldn't help but smile back. She glanced to Harry, who conversed with Sinistra in between, then out at the students, laughing and talking excitedly about their summers, and back to Severus. It promised to be a good year.

FIN

A/N:

Well, that's it. It's done. Happy ending and all. Thank you to everyone who has read over the last two years. Seriously. You gave me a reason to keep writing. Really. And all the little prods from everyone for updates did help. Thanks so much. This has been quite a learning experience.

A really important thing that somehow I never remembered until a few weeks ago and could kick myself in the arse for: the mortalis fallax potion isn't mine completely. I borrowed the idea of a potion that could defeat the killing curse from Tegan1 from her fic Echoes (with her permission) and I failed to properly credit her for it. Forgive me! And check out her fics too.

Credit for the name "All Secrets Sleep in Winter Clothes" goes to the band Neutral Milk Hotel from a line in the song "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea." Don't ask how it came to be the title of this fic, I really can't explain it as I don't remember.

So, here's my last request: one final review, final thoughts, anything you think could help me tighten the story up. Because I'm feeling a need to go through and fix some things, not too much, just a few little details that bug me. As for future fics, there will be some, just keep an eye open.


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